


oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here

by Razia



Series: isn't it lovely? [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence - Winter War, Canon What Canon, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razia/pseuds/Razia
Summary: After Mugetsu failed, Ichigo watched from the ground as Aizen stumbled into a garganta—almost torn in half but still alive—and vanished. With the war put on hold for the time being, Ichigo is left to wait until his soul heals on its own.But Aizen is not someone who’s going to sit on his thumbs while the shinigami recover from their losses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'TIS HERE!
> 
> First, thank you to the mods over at the [Bleach Big Bang](https://bleachbigbang.tumblr.com/), for organizing the event and giving me the opportunity to kick this story into gear. And second, a huge thanks to my wonderful betas/hand-holders Dyal, Howls and Fred, who not only read my shit before it's coherent, but also brainstorm with me whenever I need it. Without them, this fic wouldn't exist ♥
> 
> And third, BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEAST, an enormous thanks to my wonderful artist [Weeds](https://worksbyweeds.tumblr.com/), for making the [prettiest art ever](https://worksbyweeds.tumblr.com/post/186289678343/oh-i-hope-someday-ill-make-it-out-of-here)! Please go shower them with love!
> 
> Title is from [lovely](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1Pl8CzNzCw), by Billie Eilish.
> 
> Enjoy~

Like any good apocalypse, no one’s quite waiting for it when it comes.

Ichigo rereads his last assignment for the semester with only half of his attention; the other half is currently distracted by Karin and Yuzu’s voices coming from their bedroom, following some pop song playing on the radio.

After one last look over at his paper, Ichigo deems it ready and sets is aside with all the other stuff he needs to hand in on Monday. He mentally calculates how many exams he has and how much time he needs to study for them, before Christmas comes. He honestly can’t wait for the holiday break. 

Even though right now everything seems calm, he feels the tension at the back of his neck, waiting for something.

He leans back against his chair, stretching his arms and his back after hours sitting down. A cold breeze drifts through the window. He sighs, willing the anxiety away. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zangetsu whispers something he can’t grasp. He strains to hear it, extends his senses as far as they can go, but the whisper is lost.

Ichigo scowls at the ceiling. It’s been a year since losing most of his reishi and he’s still as weak as he was when he was a baby. Even as a toddler he could see ghosts clearly, but now they’re just a blur. It’s frustrating and quite humiliating, and waiting for his soul to heal on its own has been an exercise in patience.

Urahara promised he would find a way to accelerate the process, but so far he’s been unsuccessful. Ichigo is grateful for the help, anyway.

Hurried footsteps grab his attention, and he slides his eyes from the ceiling just as Yuzu knocks on his door.

“Onii-chan,” she says from the other side. “We’re going to the grocery store. Do you want something?”

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“Alright. I’ll make some snacks when I get back.” Her steps fade as she goes downstairs.

Ichigo sighs again, shakes his head to get rid of his morose thoughts. Outside, the afternoon sun is bright and welcoming in the chilly weather. Ichigo closes his window and decides that saturday afternoon is a good time for a nap.

He wakes up for a second, sure that he heard... something. There’s no more sun outside, which means he slept way more than he planned. The bed is comfortable and warm, though. He groans, turns to his other side, trying to fall back asleep. The sound comes again. He squeezes his closed eyes a little, intent on ignoring it. A _clack clack_ reaches his ears, like claws climbing up the side of his house. He sighs and wonders if his nightmares are blending with reality.

He’s contemplating pulling his pillow over his head to muffle the sounds, when Karin screams.

His eyes fly open as he jumps out of bed in only his boxers, and opens his door with a wrench. A heavy thud comes from his sisters’ room, and Ichigo opens the door to find Karin trying to bash something with her baseball bat. He doesn’t need to see clearly to understand there’s a hollow there, dodging Karin’s swipes with some difficulty. He runs over and kicks it as hard as he can, wincing as his foot connects with something hard. The hollow smashes against the wall, and Karin is on it in a flash.

Ichigo seizes the moment to snatch Yuzu from her bed. She shakes in his arms. He curses his own lack of powers, then grabs Karin by the neck of her shirt and drags her away from the misshapen thing writhing on the floor.

Ichigo has two seconds to wonder what the fuck is going on, when he hears a growl outside the window. What he can make out looks big, something like a paw. Sweat forms on his forehead as he pushes Karin toward the door and wraps his arm more securely around Yuzu.

Karin opens the door and a blur passes them on the hall. Ichigo flinches, thinks about not being fast enough. But then he notices the faint gleam of metal as this new shape throws itself into a hollow coming out of Ichigo’s room.

He has never been more glad that his father is a shinigami.

“ICHIGO! DON’T LEAVE ME!”

The shout comes from his bedroom as Kon flings himself at him, falling on Yuzu’s half opened arms.

He hauls them to their father’s room and closes the door. Karin almost trips on something on the floor. Ichigo looks down and takes a moment to place it; his father’s gigai. He maneuvers around it—and some random bits of what might be hollow limbs—to put Yuzu down on the bed. He pushes Karin into the bed as well, and grabs the baseball bat from her hand.

“Ichi-nii, I can do it!”

“No way! Stay where you are.”

Karin scowls, opens her mouth to argue, but something thuds against the door from the other side. They all fall silent. Ichigo can hear Yuzu start to tear up behind him, even though she’s muffling herself as best as she can. Karin’s breaths are coming fast and short beside him. He tightens his grip on the bat. If anything wants to come at his sisters, it’s gonna have to go over his dead body first.

The seconds of silence seem to stretch, compared to the quick beat of Ichigo’s heart. A scream sounds in the distance, seemingly coming from their neighbors. Karin and Yuzu huddle against him.

Ichigo’s mind races; a bunch of hollows invading their house from all sides, and the neighbors screaming. He extends his senses, tries to catch anything in the air. The sound of something being slashed outside in the hallway is faint, but there’s a heaviness in the air. He can’t feel a small hollow by itself, but he's able to tell they’re here anyway. If he can feel their collective presence, there must be a lot of them.

The bedroom door splinters inward and a blur flies through it. He reacts on instinct, swings the bat against the hollow and hopes the adrenaline coursing through his veins is enough to make it hurt.

His swing hurls the hollow against the wall. It smacks against a family portrait. The sound of the glass breaking is surprisingly loud, as both the hollow and the portrait fall to the ground. The hollow is motionless, just a lump of translucent, smoke-like matter. Ichigo frowns down at it, surprised at the small size.

Wondering about it gets put to the backburner as the sound of concrete being torn apart makes him flinch. The whole room shakes and Yuzu screams. Karin shouts, “What is going on?”

The roof cracks, torn apart by something hand-like. A whole chunk of the wall falls off to the side of the house. The night is cold and the sky is clear. Ichigo’s hands tremble; what he can see of the hollow is enormous, a single green eye fixated on them, a glint of teeth, serrated and dripping with something he can’t make out.

Yuzu is all out crying now, and even Karin’s voice trembles as she whispers, “We need to run.”

Run where? Ichigo has never felt more powerless than right now, with his sisters behind him and one of the biggest hollows he’s ever seen in front of them, and all he has is a metal baseball bat. Zangetsu claws at him, urging to spring into action. Ichigo reaches back, but the connection is lost.

The hollow leans down, seems to sniff the air. Ichigo calculates how much speed and strength he needs to grab the girls and jump down the hole in the wall. His breathing hitches as he realizes there’s no way he can do it, not in his current state. A blur in the shape of a hand comes up and aims for them. Karin and Yuzu scream. Ichigo lifts the bat and prepares himself for a bloodbath.

The hand never reaches them. A sharp whistle registers in Ichigo’s brain before he sees the hand flying off to the side, falling somewhere on the ground, out of sight. The hollow seems to scream, though Ichigo doesn’t hear anything. It thrashes around for a second, but another whistle resonates through the air, and all Ichigo perceives is its eye going wide while its massive body falls.

He takes a second to digest that the hollow is dead and him and his sisters are still alive. He looks down to see if Yuzu and Karin are alright, and they seem to be, but they’re also staring at something.

Ichigo raises his eyes again and finally spots the shape standing a few meters away. It stands tall and lean, a hint of metal in its hand. His first instinct is to raise the bat and hurl a few threats at it, but something stills him. He tilts his head at the dark shape.

Karin pokes him in the ribs and Ichigo startles a little, looking down at her.

“It’s that friend of yours, Shinji,” she says, voice steady, but the hand she curls around Ichigo’s arm shakes just a little.

Ichigo’s eyes widen as he looks back in Shinji’s direction. Shinji’s shape moves a little. Ichigo gets a glimpse of something that might be hair, before it disappears from view.

“He said to wait here,” Karin says. Yuzu pulls her closer, not letting go of Kon, and they sit against each other, breath still coming heavy from the earlier scare.

Ichigo frowns. He doesn’t want to huddle in a corner and hide. He wants to fight. If what he’s sensing is anything close to the truth, there are way more hollows than normal, and they’re attacking other places beside his house.

Just as he thinks that, a scream echoes through the night, before cutting off abruptly. The silence that follows is telling, and Ichigo settles down beside his sisters, bat still in hand and shoulders still tense. He doesn’t like doing nothing, but he understands the situation, and if anyone needs to stay with the girls while Isshin and Shinji take care of things, it might as well be him. (Zangetsu tugs at the deep corners of his mind, displeasure and bloodlust rolled into a single thought trying to push through, but Ichigo can’t make out any words. The feeling is enough, though. He can understand that.)

Ichigo doesn’t count the minutes, and he’s pretty sure it doesn’t take more than half an hour or so, but it still feels like a small eternity before the noises subside. A resounding boom echoes through the night, something big crashing into a building or falling on the street. After that, everything is silent. The eeriness sends a shiver down Ichigo’s spine. He waits with bated breath.

Karin turns toward the doorway, and Ichigo is ready to bash whatever it is, but she grabs his arm.

“It’s Goat Face,” she says, voice and hand steady. Ichigo doesn’t want to admit it, but relief runs through him. He begrudgingly lowers the bat and watches as Isshin’s shape grabs the gigai and kind of... jumps inside it? Ichigo never bothered to understand how Rukia used a gigai, but now he regrets not asking.

The gigai takes form instantly. Yuzu gasps. Ichigo is suddenly reminded of how much she doesn’t know and doesn’t see. He pats her arm in sympathy. He feels like he understands her a little more, now that he’s experiencing first-hand how frustrating it is to be left in the dark.

“We need to get out of here,” is the first thing out of Isshin’s mouth. He’s unusually serious; Ichigo has only seen him like this a handful of times, and most of them in the last year.

“Where are we going?” Ichigo asks.

“To Urahara’s place. Some bad news all around.”

Ichigo’s stomach drops. “What kind of bad news?”

“We’ll discuss it later, Ichigo. Go grab your things.” Isshin turns to the girls and grins at them. A little bit of the same old resentment rears its ugly head, but Ichigo is used to it by now. “Daddy will help you girls pack everything you need, and then we’ll go somewhere safer for the night, okay?”

Yuzu nods, but Karin rolls her eyes. “We already have emergency bags, old man.” She grabs Yuzu by the hand and takes her out of the room. Ichigo doesn’t look at Isshin as he moves from the bed, careful not to step on any shards of glass. He keeps the bat in his hand. A paltry protection is better than nothing.

His bedroom is a mess when he steps inside, but it’s nothing he wasn’t expecting. Bits of hollow strewn about the floor. Something that seems like a finger the size of his hand is currently dangling from the ceiling fan. Gods, he hopes he’s not stepping on hollow blood, but that hope is slim. He looks at his feet for a few seconds, wiggles his toes, waiting to feel anything sticky or wet, but nothing happens. Either he’s been lucky so far, or hollow blood it’s just that unnoteworthy to his dulled senses.

Ah, it’s not like he can do anything about it right now.

Ichigo puts on some clothes and grabs his duffel bag from a corner of his closet, already packed with everything he needs for a whole week. After Aizen vanished into a garganta, still breathing, Ichigo’s paranoia reached a new high—Karin and Yuzu also have ready-to-go bags in their room, because Ichigo will be damned if they’re not as protected and ready to flee as he can make them.

He’s taking a last look at what’s left of his bedroom when a feeling at the back of his neck makes him turn around, tensing in anticipation.

Shinji stands in the doorway. Ichigo’s eyes travel over him, trying to see anything beyond amorphous shadows. He’s pretty sure he sees Shinji’s yellow hair, and maybe even a hint of his white haori, but nothing beyond that. He hides his disappointment with a frown.

“We’re going, then?”

Shinji seems to nod, then turns around and walks down the stairs. Ichigo follows. He can barely admit it to himself, but he’s glad that Shinji is walking like a normal human being, just to accompany him. Downstairs things don’t look as destroyed, but there’s still a hole in the living room’s wall, some debris scattered on the floor, furniture strewn about. The TV is broken, a small shape inside it, its tiny legs—so many legs—dangling from the broken screen.

Ichigo steps outside and stops. His eyes are drawn to the house right across the street, where the front porch is caved in. A huge chunk of the second floor is missing, and the house is utterly silent. In fact, the whole street is quiet, the only sound a lonely cricket somewhere nearby.

He looks around, dread filling his stomach. Many of the houses on the street are partially destroyed, and there are some smears of blood on the sidewalk of the house beside theirs. He takes one step toward the house, but something grabs his arm.

He looks back to find a tiny shape around his arm. It’s connected to Shinji. Ichigo hesitates for a moment, torn between helping and turning a blind eye to it. Shinji’s hand tightens just a little. Ichigo swallows and resumes walking, message received.

His family is waiting on the sidewalk, and if Ichigo had any place for humor in his mind, he would laugh at the picture they paint. Karin on Isshin’s back, Yuzu propped on his left arm, and their three bags on his right hand. His basically invisible right hand; he must have ditched the gigai somewhere. The girls and the bags seem to be floating in the air. Yuzu sends him an apprehensive glance as she shifts in Isshin’s grip, pulling Kon closer to her. Ichigo smiles at her, willing her somber mood away. She does smile back at him, but it’s small and strained. She doesn’t seem to be trembling anymore though.

“Ichi-nii,” Karin says, humor absent from her voice, as it echoes through the empty street. “Shinji said you should get on his back.”

“Ugh, do I need to?” he asks, turning in Shinji’s direction to level a grimace at what he hopes is Shinji’s face.

“‘Get on it and stop complainin’, brat.’” Karin says, a sliver of a grin gracing her lips for a second as she imitates Shinji’s accent. Ichigo snorts. Shinji crouches in front of him, but Ichigo’s pretty sure he has his head turned toward him anyway. Ichigo can’t see his eyes, but he hopes Shinji isn’t looking too closely at his face. His heart rate picks up, just a little.

“Fine, fine. This is so undignified.” But he climbs without hesitation. Shinji rises as if Ichigo weighs nothing. Looking down and seeing himself be propped up by what seems to be an invisible person is one of the weirdest experiences of Ichigo’s life, and that’s saying something. Isshin is the first to move, so fast Ichigo’s eyes can’t keep up. It throws him off, just a little, to remember how strong his father really is.

Shinji’s muscles tense as he jumps up the nearest roof, following Isshin. Ichigo does his best to not look at the destruction they’re leaving behind—though looking forward isn’t much better, as he can’t keep up with everything that they pass by. Most houses and buildings are just a blur to his vision, but he does notice the smell of smoke. A far away scream reaches his ears, and he tightens his grip on Shinji’s clothes, trying to ignore the same sense of uselessness he’s been fighting against for months and months.

Asking is probably moot, but he tries anyway.

“Can’t we help them? Like, now?”

Ichigo feels Shinji shake his head. He purses his lips in distaste. The anger bubbling up inside him is mostly directed at himself, but the unfairness of the situation doesn’t escape him. He understands that Shinji’s priority is getting him and his family safely inside the shouten, he knows that, but it’s difficult to ignore a terrified scream, probably from someone who has no clue what’s happening.

He wonders if it’s difficult for Shinji, too. Or maybe he’s used to it. Ichigo has never asked Shinji’s age, but he gets the feeling that he’s quite old, and as a captain he’s definitely seen his fair share of people he couldn’t save.

They keep moving. It doesn’t sit well with Ichigo to leave those people behind, but he settles back against Shinji, frowning at the world around him as they rush through Karakura.

The shouten is silent and dark when they arrive.

Shinji lands gracefully beside Isshin, stirring up a little bit of dirt from the ground. Isshin drops the girls and immediately takes off. Ichigo gets off Shinji’s back and looks around, eyes straying to one of the houses near the shop, its small front garden destroyed.

He avoids his eyes, looks back at the shouten and frowns when he notices there doesn’t seem to be any light on inside it. Shinji enters the shop as if nothing’s wrong, and Ichigo motions for his sisters to go inside first. A small, faint light is on at the back of the front room, behind the counter. It’s enough to see inside without bumping into things, but not enough to be seen from the outside. The only window is also closed shut.

Shinji keeps his pace, walking further into the shop. Ichigo hesitates, not sure if they should follow. He and the girls stand around for a minute, bags in hand. Steps from the hallway grab Ichigo’s attention, and he spins around, alert.

Shinji stands there, solid and colored in a way Ichigo hasn’t seen in almost two months, since the last time Shinji visited. He’s in his white haori, hair pulled back in a low ponytail that Ichigo secretly approves of.

“C’mon, everyone inside. This room ain’t the safest,” Shinji says, beckoning them with a hand.

Yuzu looks at Ichigo and he nods at her. Sometimes it’s hard to remember Yuzu is not as comfortable with everything as she makes it seem. Being blind to spirits puts a limit to how much of Ichigo and Karin’s world she can fully understand.

They move to the hallway, right behind Shinji as he leads them further in, until they reach the stairs. They take the one that leads down into the bunker Urahara built below the shop. It’s not the first time any of them have been here, and they usually go down instead of up, since the bunker has way more space for everyone than the second floor. But it’s been a while since Ichigo’s been here in such somber circumstances. They bypass the first door, a storage room, and arrive at a living room of sorts, with a bunch of couches and chairs and a bookcase.

Karin and Yuzu huddle on the couch with one of the books, Kon still wrapped in Yuzu’s arms and showing no signs of wanting to move from there. Shinji looks at Ichigo and nods his head toward the kitchen.

The kitchen is brightly lit, and there’s a pan full of something that smells wonderful resting atop the stove. It looks like people left in a hurry.

“So, where’s everyone? And what the hell is going on?”

Shinji sighs, props himself against the counter. “People’re out, dealin’ with this... invasion.” He flaps a hand, indicating the awful night they just had.

“Shouldn’t you be out there too?” Ichigo asks as he leans back to rest against the fridge, directly in front of Shinji.

“No. Someone needs ta stay here with ya and the girls.”

Ichigo scowls. “I don’t need a babysitter, Shinji.”

Shinji scoffs, eyebrows rising as he levels a look of incredulity at Ichigo. “Yeah, ya do. Ya and your sisters have no way of defending yerselves, and Kisuke and I decided it’s too risky ta trust the shouten’s wards alone. Or do I need ta remind ya who’s still out there?”

Ichigo lowers his head, face scrunching in frustration. There’s nothing he can say to that, really. It grates to admit it, but he is useless. He didn’t defeat Aizen the way everyone expected him to, the way he himself expected to, and on top of that he lost his powers. He knows he failed, but being confronted by it still stings, especially coming from Shinji.

Shinji takes two long steps and stops in front of Ichigo. Ichigo takes a moment to study Shinji’s feet, and that’s when he realizes they’re dirty. He frowns as his eyes sweep over Shinji’s captain haori, noticing the frayed edges and the rips here and there. There’s even some blood splattered on the white fabric. He lifts his head slowly, taking stock of Shinji and wondering if the blood is his.

Shinji seems to read his mind. “Blood’s not mine,” he says, then grabs Ichigo face between his hands and squishes it. “But I was gonna say that ya should stop making that mopey face, idiot. I wasn’t blaming ya for anythin’, just stating facts.” He moves his hands in a circular motion, moving Ichigo’s cheeks around. “Got it?”

“Hnnnng!” Ichigo slaps his hands away and glares at him. “I got it! Stop it already!”

Shinji grins at him. “That’s better.”

Ichigo huffs and crosses his arms, but the corner of his lips turn up a little bit, though he will never admit it.

“Was that all from the attack at my house?” he asks, motioning at Shinji’s haori with his head. Shinji’s expression shifts into seriousness, and Ichigo feels dread starting to pool in his stomach.

“Soul Society was attacked as well,” Shinji says, mouth curling in displeasure.

Shock courses through Ichigo’s body. “What?”

“Nothing mass scale, but enough ta kill off some unseated shinigami and put everyone on high alert.”

Ichigo stares. “Aizen’s moving again,” he says, voice almost catching in the middle of it. Shinji’s only response is a nod, face grave.

“So all this destruction is his fault.” Ichigo sits down at the table, finally noticing his heavy body now that the adrenaline has run its course.

“I suspect this is only the beginning,” Shinji says as he sits down too. “Aizen attacked Seireitei first so that we wouldn’t be able ta respond in a timely manner ta the attacks here.”

“Was he there? Did you see him?”

Shinji shakes his head. “He wasn’t. If I were an optimistic person, I’d say it’s because he’s still recoverin’ from the thrashin’ ya gave ‘im.”

“But...?”

“But I’m a realistic asshole at the best of times, and I’m sure Aizen’s already at full power again. Why he didn’t show his smarmy face is beyond me, tho’.”

“So why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your squad?”

“Nah, they’re fine. Momo can take care o’ things on her own, for a while. ‘Sides, I was already here when this attack happened.”

“What’s the level of destruction in Seireitei?”

“Not good, but nothin’ like it’s happenin’ here, since humans can’t really defend themselves against hollows.” Shinji’s face is hard as he rests his chin on his hands. “Shinigami are being deployed while we speak, but a lot of damage has been done already. The attacks are concentrated in tiny pockets around town, and right now there’s no way of predicting the result.”

Ichigo’s clenches and unclenches his fists, well aware of Shinji’s eyes on him.

“Yer not going out there.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“Save it for someone who can’t see through yer bullshit.”

Ichigo glares and Shinji glares back.

“You can’t just expect me to sit around and do nothing!”

“That’s exactly whatcha gonna do, even if I have ta _make_ ya.”

Ichigo rises from his chair and slams his hands on the table. Shinji copies his movements with much more grace and less anger. They lean toward each other. Ichigo’s anger has been rising since he was rudely awakened by hollows closing in on his house, and beating them with a baseball bat wasn’t enough to cool down.

A noise like shuffling feet distracts them both, and they turn toward the doorway. Yuzu is standing there, half of her body hiding behind the doorframe, hesitation plain on her face.

“Onii-chan, we’re hungry. Can I cook?”

Ichigo is not surprised by the feeling of shame that takes over him. He was so focused on what he should have been able to do that for a moment he forgot his sisters were here, and that the only things keeping them safe are Urahara and Tessai’s kidou work, and Shinji himself.

Shinji is the one to answer her. He smiles, says, “The kitchen’s all yers,” with a flourish of his arm. Ichigo would scoff at the theatrics if it weren’t for the tiny smile Yuzu gives Shinji.

“I’ll be at the front room, if anyone needs me,” Shinji says to Ichigo, his eyes hard. Ichigo clenches his teeth for a moment, then nods.

Shinji leaves the kitchen and Ichigo turns to Yuzu, who’s already rummaging through the cupboards.

“Want help?”

“Yes, please!” Yuzu answers, seemingly at ease now that she has something useful to do. It doesn’t take long for Karin to join them, a book in her arms as she sits at the table to keep them company.

It’s not exactly the way Ichigo wants to spend his night while hollows roam Karakura like it’s their playground, but he does his best to get distracted by the familiar motions of cooking dinner and spending time with his sisters.

Dinner is almost ready when Shinji comes back inside, looking more at ease.

“They’re comin’ back.”

Some of the tension leaves Ichigo’s shoulders and he finally realizes he’s clenching his jaw. He didn’t even realize he was so tense; it’s already giving him a headache. He pushes it to the back of his mind, and tries to find plates for everyone, whatever that number might be.

“How many?” Karin asks, rummaging for the cutlery.

“With us? Fourteen.”

The three of them stop what they’re doing and look back at Shinji with a range of surprised and deadpan expressions. He grins, huffs a little laugh and turns around at the sound of the front door opening. Ichigo is expecting a choir of voices. Instead, he hears nothing but their steps as they descend toward the kitchen.

“Onii-chan, we’re gonna have to separate between kitchen and living room.” Yuzu moves fast as she turns off the stove and starts helping with the table.

“You guys can stay here. I’m not really hungry.”

Karin looks at him with a frown, but before she can complain, Urahara enters the kitchen. His haori looks smoked in some places, and there’s a slash on his cheek, but other than that he seems fine. His eyes roam over them for a brief moment.

“Kurosaki-san, Karin-san, Yuzu-san. Welcome to my humble shop.”

Ichigo lifts an eyebrow and keeps his silence. Yuzu giggles and turns toward Urahara.

“Urahara-san, stop acting like we didn’t see each other last week and tell me that you have more bowls and plates, please,” she asks, tone cute but demanding in a way that only Yuzu knows how.

Urahara looks like the answer is no, but Tessai steps to the side. “There might be some in one of the storage rooms. I’ll take a look, Yuzu-san.”

“Thank you, Tessai-san!”

Karin bumps into Ichigo. “Ichi-nii.” Ichigo turns around and she’s pointing a knife at him, trying to keep a straight face. “This kitchen isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

Ichigo chuckles. “Yeah yeah, I get it.”

The table is only big enough for six people, so Ichigo maneuvers around Urahara and Shinji and goes back to the living room. Yoruichi and Hiyori are off to the side, discussing something in low tones. Their faces are set in hard masks, but he’ll ask later. He quickly takes stock of their physical state; they look roughed up but fine, no blood visible.

Inoue, Ishida and Chad are on one of the couches. Chad has a big gash on his right arm, but Inoue seems well on her way to mending it. Ishida’s clothes are dirty, but he seems fine as well. Upon closer inspection Ichigo sees his glasses are cracked, but that seems to be the only considerable damage.

Ururu and Jinta are nowhere to be seen, and Isshin is hanging back against a wall.

Ichigo turns to Ishida. “Your father?”

Ishida looks up from where he’s staring at his hands. There’s a thin cut along his jaw. “At the hospital, trying to keep the panic to a minimum.”

Ichigo nods. He doesn’t remember hearing sirens of any kind, but people probably took a while to understand that something was harming them, that it wasn’t just a nightmare. Hell, Ichigo should know better, and he still thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He was also too focused on the smell of smoke and the nauseating rush of someone else’s shunpo to notice much of anything else.

“Kurosaki-kun, are you alright? Did you get hurt? Are your sisters okay?” Inoue asks, face set in distress even as her hands never waver from Chad’s arm.

“I’m fine, they’re fine. Don’t worry.”

She nods slowly, clearly not mollified, but there’s not much else Ichigo can say that can put her at ease.

He approaches his father, looks him up and down. “Did you go back to the house to get the gigai?”

Isshin nods.

“And how are things outside?”

Isshin’s face is answer enough, but he still says, “Bad, but not as bad as I thought. Small attacks here and there, some people dead, a lot of people hurt. This wasn’t really an attack.”

“What do you mean?”

“This seemed more like a test. ”

“A test? A test of what?” Ichigo asks, incredulity coloring his tone.

“Our reaction time, how the shinigami forces have been redistributed since losing people a year ago, how long they take to respond to threats on the human world, etc.”

“Shinji thinks Aizen is already at full power again.”

“I agree. With the Hougyouku in his hands, a year seems like plenty of time to get back on his feet. Even though you considerably weakened him, I’m surprised it took him this long to make a new move.”

“What are we gonna do now?”

Isshin’s smile is unhappy, barely there. “Prepare for war. Again.”

The dread that’s been building since this whole night started settles in Ichigo’s stomach, heavy like lead. Isshin’s face suddenly morphs into his signature grin and he slaps Ichigo’s back, upsetting his balance and almost sending him face first into the bookcase.

“Don’t worry, my strong son! Your father has most of his powers back now, so he can protect you and your sisters!”

“Who the hell would want your protection, old man?”

“Ahahahaha!”

Ichigo rolls his eyes and steps away. Tessai appears in the doorway with a cardboard box, old and fraying at the edges. The clink of ceramic is obvious as he takes it to the kitchen. Ichigo takes a moment to just look around, observing everyone. No one seems seriously hurt, but they all look tired and on edge. Nothing surprising.

A heavy feeling settles over him like a blanket. He passes Yoruichi and Hiyori on his way to the front room. Yoruichi turns her head to him, puts a hand on his arm. He smiles at her.

“I’ll be upstairs.”

She nods, a knowing expression on her face as she lets him go. Ichigo is surprised to admit he doesn’t feel as self-conscious with her as he feels with the others. Still, Yoruichi doesn’t need to see him moping.

He’s almost at the door that separates the front room from the rest of the house when the front door closes, Jinta’s voice obvious through the wood. Ururu and Jinta pass him on the hallway, bead curtain tinkling behind them.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Ichigo says, pointing behind him.

“Nice!” Jinta says, hurrying down. Ururu gives Ichigo a nod, following at a more sedate pace.

Where the living room was silent in hushed whispers and tense atmosphere, upstairs is silent in an empty way, now that he’s the only one there. It’s comforting. Ichigo feels the tightness around his frame give, just a little. No one’s watching his expression fall, or his shoulders sag, as he sits on the stool behind the counter, head on his arms.

The small light from earlier is still on. It illuminates the place just enough for him to feel inside a bubble, suspended in time. As if nothing can touch him.

His last moments as a shinigami replay in his head. His arm raising as black reiatsu envelops it. A wall of darkness encompassing the empty plain. Aizen’s face as he realizes what’s happening, trying to dodge. The black reiatsu almost cutting Aizen in half. The weight of it consuming Aizen like flames, licking at his skin and bringing forth a scream that’s seared into Ichigo’s mind, still ringing in his ears.

A moment of triumph and relief, then horror as Urahara’s seal fails. Aizen stumbling through a garganta as Ichigo feels a heavy weight pull him down, down, down. A glimpse of twisted wings getting away.

Darkness.

Bitterness rises in Ichigo’s throat. All that for nothing. At first a fight with his father, because he didn’t want to do it. Then a fight with Zangetsu, because he didn’t want to do it either, making Ichigo doubt and waver even as they clashed. Then the sensation of giving up everything that made him who he was, as he and Zangetsu became one in a way few shinigami and zanpakutou can.

All that pain and anxiety and loss... for nothing.

Light steps on the hallway break the illusion that he’s alone, and for a wild moment Ichigo considers getting up and walking away, out the door. He stays though, tense and still, and doesn’t turn his head to see who it is.

“Ah,” Shinji says. Ichigo twitches. “Had a feeling ya were mopin’. I was right.”

Ichigo sighs, willing his foul mood to the back of his head to be dealt with later. (He’s been doing it a lot today.) “What do you want?”

A bowl of steaming food is placed in front of him. He blinks, surprised and touched. Shinji sits by his side with a bowl of his own. He doesn’t say anything else as he starts eating. Ichigo stares for a moment, caught by the lack of admonishment. Shinji slides him a look from the corner of an eye, and Ichigo quickly grabs his food. No sense in inviting scolding when Shinji seems perfectly happy with not talking.

The smell takes over Ichigo’s nose and he realizes it’s been hours since he last ate. He scarfs down the food and pushes the bowl aside, leaning forward on the counter again. A contented sigh escapes him.

“If ya puke later, it’s yer own damn fault for inhaling the food,” Shinji says, covering his mouth with one hand.

Ichigo turns his head to him. “Look, I was hungry, okay—” Something small and shiny in the low light catches his attention. He slides his eyes to Shinji’s right ear and blinks. Two silver hoops sit in the middle of his ear, next to the pink one he’s had for a few months now. They flicker as Shinji moves his head.

“What?” he asks, piling his bowl with Ichigo’s.

“Those are new,” Ichigo answers, trying to keep his voice even.

“Ah,” Shinji’s hand comes up to touch his piercings, “yeah, I got ‘em last week.”

“Eh? Last week? They look completely healed.”

“Kaidou’s a pretty handy thing, ain’t it? D’you like ‘em?” Shinji asks.

He loves them, specifically because they’re on Shinji, but he’s not about to tell him that. “Yeah, they look cool.”

Shinji tilts his head and looks at him for a couple of seconds. “Would ya like to get one?”

Ichigo blinks. “I can’t wear them.”

“In school, ya mean? Just take ‘em off when yer there.”

“I mean... I guess I could do that?” Ichigo touches his own ears. “I just... don’t know if they fit me.”

“Piercings don’t need ta ‘fit’. The only requirement is that ya want ‘em. ‘Sides... ya already get flak for yer hair. Might as well get flak for somethin’ ya actually chose, hm?”

It’s nothing that Ichigo hasn’t thought to himself before, but hearing it out loud, from someone else, it’s rather comforting. “Hmmm, then I guess I want them.”

“Great! I’ll pierce yer ears for ya,” he wiggles his fingers, “and a little bit of kaidou will take care of the rest. What do ya say?”

Ichigo licks his lips, not really able to suppress an excited little smile. “Yeah, alright.”

“What kind do ya want? Studs? Hoops?”

Ichigo studies Shinji’s piercings for a moment, trying to imagine the hoops in his own ears. The mental image doesn’t seem right. He bites his lips.

“I guess I’d like studs. One in each earlobe?”

Shinji grins, pleased. “Goin’ all in, huh? I approve. Leave it ta me, then.” Then he stretches, a tiny yawn escaping him.

“Now, ya do remember I told ya this room’s not the safest, right? I need ya to go back downstairs.”

Ichigo raises an eyebrow. “What, why? You’re here.”

Shinji’s eyebrows go up in surprise and Ichigo feels some embarrassment curl around him, but he surges forward. “If you’re here then it’s safe, right?”

Shinji gives him a little grin, pleased and arrogant in equal measure. Ichigo is scowling before Shinji even opens his mouth.

“Why, of course, Ichigo. I’ll definitely defend ya from the evils of the world.”

Ichigo can feel his face burning, but he refuses to look away. If looks could burn, Shinji’s hair would be on fire. Shinji huffs a laugh and pats him on the shoulder, hand light where it touches him.

“Relax, I’m just messin’ with ya.”

Slightly appeased but not wanting to acknowledge it, Ichigo simply huffs. He turns his eyes away from Shinji and back to the shelves full of knick-knacks.

“No, but really. I need ya ta go back downstairs now. I gotta go back ta Soul Society.”

“Already?”

“I told Momo I’d be away for an hour. It’s been two.”

“Yeah, alright.” Ichigo is pretty sure some disappointment flits through his voice. He hopes Shinji doesn’t catch on it.

“Don’t gimme that tone. I’ll be back.”

“What tone? Just go away already.”

Shinji grins at him. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Go away.”

Shinji rises from the stool. Ichigo follows him, watching as Shinji looks around the room, eyes far away.

“Everything’s quiet,” Shinji says, then taps his chest twice. “Hold this for me, yeah?”

“What—”

Shinji’s gigai snaps forward with a pop, almost falling to the floor before Ichigo catches it. It’s as heavy and clumsy as a small child, limbs everywhere.

Shinji’s soul sways in place, seemingly vibrating. Ichigo suspects he’s laughing.

“Just go, asshole.” Ichigo hesitates for a moment, opens his mouth and closes it again. Shinji stays put, probably waiting for whatever he has to say.

Ichigo looks away. “Be careful.”

For a moment there’s a pressure on his arm, like Shinji’s touching him, then it’s gone. The sound of the door opening and closing. When Ichigo looks back, there’s nothing there.

After leaving Shinji’s gigai in the spare room, Ichigo makes his way downstairs again. Most people have finished dinner by now. The atmosphere is still tense, everyone seemingly waiting for something to go wrong at any moment.

Hiyori waves a hand, beckoning him to the small couch. He moves toward her, eyeing her disheveled hair, the smudges on her face. She looks displeased, but Hiyori always looks displeased.

“I went to see your classmates. Kojima, Asano and Arisawa.”

The guilt courses through Ichigo. He had completely forgotten about them. Hiyori must see something on his face, because she rolls her eyes at him.

“Relax, they’re fine. They want you to know they’re gonna stay with their families for now.”

“You went to see if they were safe? I... thanks, Hiyori.”

She nods. “I told them Urahara had enough room for all of them, but Kojima said that if anything happens again, he will take Asano and Arisawa and their families to his family’s bunker. I mean, can you believe it? His family has a bunker of their own. Talk about being prepared.” She leans back on the couch, closing her eyes. “But if anything happens, I’ll check on them again.”

“I didn’t think you knew them.”

“I don’t, but since I’m the only Visored staying here, Urahara asked me to keep tabs on them from time to time.”

“Like a stalker.”

Hiyori huffs a tired laugh. “Like a stalker.”

“So who keeps tabs on me?”

“You, your family and the other brats? Mostly Urahara, unless Shinji’s around.”

“Huh, how so?”

“If Shinji’s here, he’s the one to go to you and your family if there’s trouble.”

“...Oh.” Ichigo doesn’t know how to answer that, or to react in an appropriate manner, so he shuts his mouth. Hiyori opens her eyes a little to stare at him for a second or two, face unreadable.

Then it dawns on him what she just said.

“Wait, are you saying you guys have it actually planned out?”

“Of course. Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Of course not!”

She crosses her arms, opening her eyes all the way and leveling a disbelieving gaze at him. “Have you been living in a bubble these past year, baldy? What part of _that cockroach’s still MIA_ did you miss?”

“Ugh, it’s not like I’ve forgotten it. Believe me, I haven't. It just seems kinda, like—removed from my reality.” Ichigo’s shoulders bunch a little. “During the first few months I kept looking over my shoulder, but then nothing happened. After a year I guess I've been so worried about healing my soul and going to school without worrying that things are gonna explode around me at any moment that I... I guess I got too comfortable?”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s not like you don’t deserve a break while you’re healing, but someone needs to make sure you don’t drop dead in the meantime.”

“Aw Hiyori, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“Who said anything about caring, baldy? I’m only doing this ‘cause if you kick the bucket, Shinji and Urahara will be an even bigger pain in my ass!”

“Sure, of course. I believe you.”

“I’mma slam you into a wall.”

“Don’t hurt the powerless human, Hiyori.”

“Don’t poke the annoyed non-human, Ichigo.”

Ichigo grins at her and she grins back, a little bit of light back in her eyes.

"Kurosaki-san," Urahara says, interrupting their conversation. "May we talk in private?"

Ichigo blinks up at him, good humor fading at the look on Urahara’s face. "Yeah, sure."

They move to one of Urahara's office, the one where people are actually allowed to go. There are some papers that Ichigo hasn't seen before, schematics spread out on the table. One of them is a sword.

Urahara moves with purpose to the pile that contains the sword schematics, picking up the first sheet and handing it to Ichigo.

"What is this?"

"That is my current plan to give you your powers back."

Ichigo's eyes widen, a mixture of excitement and hope zinging through his body.

"What, really?"

"Yes, though it's not ready yet."

Eyes roaming through the text, Ichigo barely understands anything, but he still feels giddy in a way he hasn't really felt in a whole year. He's gonna have his powers back. Zangetsu will be back. Hell, even his hollow will be back, and Ichigo never thought he would be happy about that.

"This is amazing, Urahara-san."

Urahara lowers his head, hiding his eyes behind the hat, but Ichigo still sees the slight smile.

"Like I said, it's not ready yet. To kickstart your reiatsu again, it will take an enormous amount of reishi, delivered directly into your damaged soul." He eyes the notes around the table with a tired sort of determination. "And for that, the sword needs to be stable and hold as much reiatsu as possible."

"I don't understand the details, of course, but I can see it's complex." Ichigo swallows, not quite knowing how to thank Urahara enough. "That you're doing this means a lot. Thanks."

Urahara grins widely, whipping his fan out from somewhere. "You are very welcome, Kurosaki-san! It's the least I could do. I am very sorry it’s taking a while, though." Then he sits in his chair and Ichigo feels the tone of the conversation shift. Urahara waves a hand at the other chair, urging Ichigo to sit down.

“I just want you to know that... there might be problems.”

Ichigo doesn’t like where this is going. “Problems? What kind of problems?”

“Well, you need to remember that even though you are part shinigami, you’re still human. Human bodies were not made to deal with so much power, and I gather all the stress your soul has been through has probably left marks on your body.”

Ichigo takes a deep breath, mind drifting to the scars he accumulated in those first, insane months.

“Well, I have some scars that passed over from my soul to my body, but that’s it.”

“Yes, of course. Scars are the most common side effect, I would say. But I’m talking about something else.”

“Like what?”

“The marks that are invisible. The side effects of everything your body has been through.” Urahara shuffles some papers around, looking for something. He snatches a sheet of paper from under a book and hands it to Ichigo. It’s a list of side effects. Ichigo reads the list out loud, dread pooling in his stomach.

“Unstable physical strength. Unable to perform kidou and other types of concentrated reiryoku spells. Fluctuating reiatsu. Partial or complete loss of reiryoku. Soul randomly disconnecting from the body. Body unable to heal. Eventual death of the body. Possible destruction of the soul, if it’s forced to stay inside the body.”

A cold fear shoots through him as he finishes the list. His hand tightens around the paper, crinkling it.

“Mind you, you may not have all of them. You may end up with none at all, but you still should know the possible consequences of having your powers back.”

Ichigo doesn’t know how to answer, head swimming with the news. For the first time in a year, it suddenly dawns on him what his life has come to. A hybrid with powers of a level he has no business having, in a human body not suited for them, full of scars from wounds that should have killed him.

“Am I going to die?” he asks.

Urahara’s eyes widen, fan forgotten on the table. He stares at Ichigo for a few seconds, probably gauging his words. “I will do my best so that it does not happen, Kurosaki-san.”

It's a vague answer, but Ichigo nods anyway, words lodged in his throat. He can’t stop staring at the list, the words blurring together as his mind races. All this time he has been impatient, just wanting to go back to what he had, unknowingly wishing for his death to come quicker.

“I understand this is a lot to take in. You can think about it, if you want. You, of course, have the right to decide not to go through with the procedure.”

It’s tempting; it’s not like Ichigo wants to die. He almost opens his mouth to agree, to ask for a little more time to think about it... and then he remembers Shinji’s dirty haori, blood splattered on it. Hiyori’s face, tired and dusty. Chad’s arm. His sisters screaming and crying as something he couldn’t fight against tried to eat them.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then opens them to meet Urahara’s.

“How long until I start feeling these side effects?”

“As I said, you might never have them... but if you do, I would say one to two years for them to become obvious. After that, anytime from four years to a decade for the body to give in.”

“And my soul?”

“Your soul will be fine if we take it from your body, as soon as your body starts decaying. The problem is forcing the soul to stay in a vessel that cannot handle it anymore.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay, then...?”

“Let’s use the sword, whenever’s ready.”

Urahara looks at him with surprise. Ichigo huffs. “What, you thought I was gonna say no?”

“I thought you might want to think about it before deciding.”

“I—it’s not like I’m not worried. I’m not stupid. But, after tonight... I can’t stand to the side and not do anything. It won’t sit right with me, and if I’m going to die, it might as well be doing something.”

“I understand, Kurosaki-san.” Urahara smiles at him, nodding his head with a slight curve of his back.

“Right then,” Ichigo says, uncomfortable with the show of respect. “If that’s all?”

“That is all. If you’re feeling tired, your usual room is most likely ready by now. I’m afraid you’ll have to share it with your sisters, though, seeing as we have many guests tonight.”

Ichigo nods and leaves, aware of Urahara’s stare on his back.

He has a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the first chapter's done! The rest it's already written, and I'll post them in the upcoming days as I finish revising them.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated, please let me know what you guys think ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ


	2. Chapter 2

They end up spending the night, of course, since the Kurosaki household lost half of its roof and some of its walls overnight. Ichigo wakes early the next day, almost worried about being late for school, until he remembers it’s Sunday. He maneuvers around his sisters, trying not to wake them. He jumps over Kon, sprawled on the floor, and leaves the room in his pajamas.

The shouten is silent and chilly in the early morning. Ichigo can almost fool himself into thinking they've just spent the night because it was too late to go home last night. Just like they've done a few times over the last year.

He stops by the kitchen to grab something to eat and almost bumps into Shinji.

"Good morning, sunshine," Shinji says, voice hoarse as he steps around Ichigo with ease.

"Good morning." Ichigo stares at him. There are bags under Shinji's eyes, his smile not as wide as it usually is. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Ha, I wish! There's so much paperwork I feel like the ink will never leave my hands."

"Did you at least eat?"

"Also ha, I wish."

Ichigo sighs, more concerned than he wants to admit. He points to a chair. "Sit down."

Shinji raises his eyebrows slightly in question, but Ichigo only turns around and starts rummaging through the fridge, getting whatever's leftover from dinner and wondering what he can do with it.

"Yer gonna cook?"

"Sure, for a measure of cooking anyway. I'm hungry and you're starving. Might as well."

Shinji doesn't answer. Ichigo peeks at him from over the fridge door. Shinji is obviously tired, head resting in his arms as he observes Ichigo, eyes unfocused.

It doesn't take long to scrap something together, though they will have to go out and buy food if everyone decides to eat at the shouten today. Ten minutes later Ichigo turns around with a bowl in his hands and stops when he realizes Shinji's asleep.

Something almost soft settles in his stomach at the sight. Ichigo sighs again; he knows where his feelings are going, where they have been going for a while now. He thought he only needed some time away from Shinji to put things into perspective and get rid of his huge, dumb crush. But seeing Shinji once or twice every month or so did nothing to diminish his feelings, and Ichigo is starting to realize those feelings are growing and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep and spends his hours looking out the window, he thinks that he doesn’t even want to.

He places the bowl in front of Shinji and shakes his shoulder slightly.

“C’mon Shinji, wake up. Food’s ready.”

Shinji groans, raising his head slowly. He blinks at Ichigo for a second, then rubs his eyes. Yawning, his eyes fall on the bowl and then go back to Ichigo, a small smile on his lips.

“Thanks.”

Ichigo nods and turns around before he says something embarrassing and inappropriate like anything for you.

He goes back to the counter and looks around the food he managed to gather, the faint clink of bamboo chopsticks against porcelain a soothing background noise. He manages to put something together from what he has when Yoruichi appears.

“Ah, you guys are up early.”

She shuffles near Ichigo, spying over his shoulder. “Can I have that?”

“Nope. Make your own.”

“Eh, Ichigo, don’t be stingy.”

“I’m not being stingy, I’m being practical.”

She turns to Shinji. “Hirako, how did you get your food?”

Shinji, the traitor, jerks his head at Ichigo, not even bothering to answer out loud. Yoruichi turns to Ichigo with a mischievous light in her eyes, saying, “You gave Hirako food and I get nothing?”

“First come, first served,” Ichigo answers. He narrows his eyes at Shinji. “Traitor. See if I give you any food ever again.”

Shinji’s only answer is a smug, tight lipped smile, chewing merrily as Ichigo glares at him.

Yoruichi stretches her arms with a grimace. “Alright, being serious now, we need to feed everyone. Make a quick inventory and give me a list of what you think it’s necessary, at least for breakfast and lunch.”

“No dinner?”

“I’m hopeful that by nightfall everyone will be safely home.”

“Can you whip up a roof in twenty four hours?”

“Okay, maybe not everyone.” She grins at him and moves toward the doorway. Right outside Ichigo sees her wave at someone, and three seconds later Karin and Yuzu enter the kitchen, faces still marked from the sheets.

He waves them over and makes them sit down, putting the food in front of them. Karin dives in and Yuzu throws him a grateful smile before doing the same. Ichigo is about to sit down to eat as well, when Shinji rises from the table, bowl in hand.

“Thanks for the food,” he says, moving toward the sink.

Ichigo grabs the bowl from his hand before he can take two steps. “I’ll wash it. You need to sleep.”

“Can’t. Need ta be back soon.” Shinji reaches for the bowl and Ichigo hides it behind his back.

He turns to his sisters—“Are you two going to sleep again?”—all the while dodging Shinji’s sleepy attempts to take his bowl back.

Yuzu shakes her head.

“Alright.” Ichigo puts the bowl on the table and grabs Shinji by the shoulders, turning him around. “Off to sleep, then.”

“Ichigo, I can’t.”

“Sure you can. You’ll be asleep before you hit the mattress, I bet.” He nudges Shinji toward the room his sisters just vacated.

“I need ta go back ta the Fifth,” Shinji says, words slurred as he yawns again.

“Did Hinamori sleep?”

“Umm... a couple o’ hours?”

“Then she can stay awake long enough for you to get a couple of hours too.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You totally should.”

They stop right outside the door, Shinji suddenly becoming an unmovable object. Ichigo knows there's no way he can push Shinji inside the room if he doesn't want to go, but he still pokes him on the back.

"Just sleep for a while. I'll wake you up two hours from now, okay?"

Shinji sags, a sigh leaving his lips. He turns to Ichigo and smiles, tired and soft around the edges in a way Ichigo rarely sees him.

"Okay. Since ya insist."

Ichigo nods, relieved he won't have to fight with Shinji about it. Shinji enters the room and Ichigo steps away, turning to go back to the kitchen. He might ask Yuzu for help making the grocery list.

He's halfway there when Shinji calls for him.

"Ichigo."

Ichigo turns around and barely has half a second to react before something soft and orange smacks him in the face.

"HEY BASTARD, DON'T FUCKING THROW ME AROUND LIKE THAT!"

Oh.

Ichigo takes Kon away from his face and waves at Shinji.

"Ichigo! Tell that bastard to apologize!"

"Sure... after he's gotten some sleep."

Kon grumbles but settles down in Ichigo's arms, appeased enough to let it go for now. Ichigo doubts Shinji will be sincere, but it will be funny seeing him apologize anyway. He resumes his way to the kitchen, wondering if Yoruichi can grab all the food they need before the rest of the shouten wakes up.

Two hours later and the shouten is bustling with activity, groceries mostly sorted out as Yuzu and Tessai finish breakfast.

Ichigo leaves the kitchen and makes his way to the room where he left Shinji. He opens the door slowly and peeks inside, eyes falling on the figure curled on the bed. He enters the room with light steps, going around the bed so he can face Shinji.

He still looks tired, but that’s going to take a while to go away. It will definitely need more than two hours of sleep after pulling an all-nighter, for Shinji to feel any kind of rested.

Ichigo permits himself a few seconds to stare, to take Shinji in. Such a vulnerable situation, being asleep around other people, but Shinji doesn't even fidget, deeply asleep and apparently unconcerned. Ichigo doesn't want to wake him. Shinji needs his rest more than anyone else at the shouten right now, but Ichigo did say that he would wake him up in two hours, and Shinji's counting on him for that.

He approaches the bed and raises a hand, and for a split second thinks of touching Shinji on the cheek, just to know what it feels like. He shakes himself, annoyed, because there's no way he's doing that without Shinji's permission.

He barely touches Shinji's shoulder and a pair of brown eyes snap open, bleary for a moment before focusing on him.

"Time's up."

Shinji sighs, a puff of air that’s more annoyance than tiredness, irritation crossing his face before he smooths it out.

"Sorry," Ichigo says.

"Don't worry," Shinji says, rubbing a hand down his face as he sits up, "I'm just pissed off that two hours feel like nothin’ at all."

"You could stay a little more."

"I could, but I won't."

Shinji rises from the bed in a smooth move, putting his hair in the low ponytail he’s been using lately. Ichigo tells himself he's not staring.

"Thanks for wakin' me when ya say ya would."

"I was tempted to let you sleep more, honestly."

Shinji chuckles. "Part of me woulda been really happy 'bout it. Unfortunately, duty calls."

Ichigo nods. Shinji moves to the hallway, but instead of going toward the front door, he motions for Ichigo to follow him deeper into the shouten, passing through the hallway that leads to the training ground. They keep going—Ichigo always marvels at the way the shouten expands underground—past doors that he has no idea what’s behind, until they get to what appears to be an office, but one he’s never seen before.

Shinji pushes the door open without hesitation, but Ichigo pauses in the doorway.

“Are you sure I can be here?”

Shinji shrugs. “If I can, so can ya.”

“And what are we doing here, exactly?”

“I’mma show ya how I usually come and go,” Shinji says, then opens the door of something that Ichigo initially thought was a closet. Behind the door there is only white light, and Ichigo realizes what he’s looking at.

“Is that a senkaimon?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yup.”

“What—how?”

“Kisuke, ‘course. He spent quite a few decades perfectin’ it.”

“If he had it all this time, why the hell did we use that giant gate that forced us through the dangai?” Ichigo pauses, then adds, “And why the hell did you go outside yesterday, if this is here?”

“He only finished it a few months ago. I’ve been helpin’ him test it.” Shinji takes a step toward it. “I didn’t use it yesterday because I was here in an official manner. Besides, even if ya used this one, ya’d still have ta go through the dangai, since ya wouldn’t have a jigokuchou.”

“Ah.” Ichigo deflates, disappointed. “Having a physical body is a hassle sometimes.”

Shinji chuckles. “It’s not just ‘bout havin’ a body. I’m gonna have to go through the dangai too, since this isn’t official and there’s no jigokuchou to accompany me. But either way, ya should enjoy yer body while ya can.”

Ichigo tries, he really does, but he can’t help the way he purses his mouth. He has no idea what face he makes beyond that, but Shinji’s eyes zero in on him like a hawk.

“What?” Shinji asks, voice low.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, brat.”

Well, it was worth a try.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“No.” Shinji closes the senkaimon’s door, blocking out the blinding light. Ichigo blinks thrice to readjust his eyes, and when he can see well again, Shinji is standing in front of him. His posture is relaxed, but there’s a tightness to his mouth. Ichigo feels guilty about holding Shinji longer, because his eyes are still tired, but Shinji can be as stubborn as him.

“What was that face ya made?” Shinji doesn’t cross his arms, doesn’t raise his voice. Just stands there, concerned and worn out, eyes a warm brown.

Ichigo tells him everything. Shinji listens in silence, expression getting harder by the second, but his body language never changes. When Ichigo finishes, Shinji takes a deep breath.

“Suppose there’s no telling ya not to do it, right?”

Ichigo nods. Not even Shinji would convince him to give up on it.

Shinji sighs, still tense around the shoulders. He looks at their feet for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts. When he looks back up, his eyes are intense, face set into determination.

“Ya better let me know when the side effects start.”

Ichigo blinks in surprise. That’s not what he was expecting. “Uh, yeah. Sure, of course.” And there’s no need to lie, either. Ichigo has no arguments against warning Shinji. It’s not like having people worried about his health is a bad thing anyway, even if it makes him fidget in embarrassment.

“Alright, then. Tell me when ya intend on goin’ through with it, and I’ll be here.”

Pleasure warms him at the note of worry on Shinji’s voice. “I will, I promise.”

Shinji nods, not exactly relieved, but some of the tenseness leaves his shoulders. “‘Kay, now I’m going for reals. Unless ya have another frightenin’ revelation ta make?” he asks, grin small but there.

Ichigo smiles at him. “Not right now. I might have some after lunch, though.”

“I’ll be sure ta check in later. Don’t do anythin’ stupid without me.”

“No promises.”

Shinji steps toward the senkaimon, then turns his head to Ichigo. “Tell Kisuke I’m gonna take the gigai with me. It’s just more practical.” He opens the door again and waves, simply jumping inside, no zanpakutou as key. The senkaimon brightens for a second, then fades away to a small, faint light. Ichigo closes the door and leaves the office, feeling lighter than yesterday.

After lunch, Inoue, Chad and Ishida head home after a patrol through Karakura assures everyone that danger is far away, for now. Yoruichi and Hiyori also go back to whatever it is they do when not at the shouten. Ichigo wants to sneak out to his house to grab his homework and maybe some books, but he knows people will freak out if he does that. He’s debating asking someone to accompany him, when Isshin corners him just outside his borrowed bedroom.

“I talked to Urahara,” Isshin says, crossed arms and serious expression.

Ichigo has a bad feeling about this. “About what?”

“Your powers, and how he wants to bring them back.”

Ichigo frowns. It’s the third time in less than twenty four hours that he’s talking about this with someone, and it’s tiring. He knows this conversation will not go as smoothly as it did with Shinji. “You say that like he’s imposing his will on me, but that’s not true, and you know it.”

Isshin frowns back. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Urahara told me the side effects. They’re bad, Ichigo.”

“I know.”

Isshin looks surprised for a moment before exasperation takes over his face. “You know and you still want to go through with it?”

“I can’t be powerless forever!”

“You most certainly can! What use is it having powers when they slowly kill you?”

“You didn’t seem so worried when you were teaching me a technique that was going to _rip my zanpakutou away from me_.”

Isshin brings a hand to his face, sighing. “I did it because I knew you would heal in time. If I gave you the impression I wasn’t worried, then we clearly have a problem here.”

“Or maybe you’re just a very good liar.” Ichigo can almost taste something sour, bitterness clear in his tone.

Isshin stares at him, something like guilt flashing across his face. “I taught you the Final Getsuga Tenshou because you were our only chance at the time. Doesn’t mean I was happy about it.”

“And yet you still let me face Aizen on my own,” Ichigo says, bitter and not caring to hide it.

“If I was around and he used me as leverage, it would have hindered you. I couldn’t do that.”

Ichigo avoids his eyes. He understands the circumstances, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. He still has nightmares about looking around the battlefield and seeing Isshin give him his back, walking away as Ichigo bleeds so much he drowns in his own blood.

“Think about your sisters, Ichigo. How do you think they will react when they find out?”

Ichigo’s heart picks up its pace as anger courses through him. “I _am_ thinking about them! They’re the main reason I’m doing this in the first place!”

“But you don’t _need_ to. I’m almost at a hundred percent again, I can take care of them. I can take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me, I can do that on my own! It’s what I’ve been doing since I was nine, if you suddenly can’t recall.”

Isshin’s stricken face is not as satisfactory as Ichigo expected.

“I realize I might have failed in raising you, but that doesn’t mean you need to throw yourself into danger!”

Their voices are getting higher. Ichigo’s sure everyone can hear them by now. His face burns in shame and anger; this is not the time nor the place, but now that he’s started, he finds that he can’t stop. 

“You think I’m doing this to get back at you? Wake the fuck up dad! There’s a madman running around trying to kill me and people I care about!” Ichigo gestures wildly. “I can’t stand to the side and do nothing about it!”

“There are other people who are just as strong as you! Why do you have to put yourself in the middle of it?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Seriously? After everything? You were one of the people who vehemently insisted that I was the only one who could defeat Aizen. _You taught me how_.”

“And I regret it!”

“Too damn fucking late!”

“Why are you insisting on this?”

“Why are you so against it?”

“I already lost my wife, do you think I want to lose my son too?” Isshin shouts, face contorted in pain.

Grief takes Ichigo by surprise as they stare at each other in silence. Ichigo can’t remember them ever talking about Masaki in a tone that wasn’t happy—Isshin and his poster—or solemn. Never in this mixture of sadness and anger and desperation. Memories take hold of Ichigo against his will. A rainy day, a girl on the river bank. Waking up with the rain falling on his face, his mother’s corpse shielding him, the still warm blood soaking his clothes.

Ichigo shakes his head and wills some unwanted tears away.

Isshin sighs again, face tired. He suddenly looks older, years heavy on his shoulders. “I’d rather you didn’t go through with it.”

Ichigo’s gaze roams the walls, not able to stop at Isshin for more than a second. “I know. I’m still gonna do it.”

“That’s what I thought.” Isshin says, fight going out of him as he leans against the wall. “I just don’t want to look away only to look back and see you lying on the ground, dead.”

Ichigo bunches his shoulder a little, not really knowing how to react to this sudden display of affection and worry. “I’m not gonna die.”

“There’s no way for you to know that.”

“No, but I’ll do my best anyway.”

Isshin stares at him for a while. Ichigo does his best not to fidget like a child caught doing something wrong. Then Isshin nods, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Then I’ll do my best to watch your back.”

Ichigo blinks at him, surprised. That’s not something he ever expected to hear from Isshin, specially in such a situation. Something stirs in his heart, some grudging sort of love he never feels comfortable acknowledging. He doesn’t say he’s going to keep an eye on Isshin too. No need to start another argument where no one’s going to win.

He settles against the wall beside Isshin, breathing deep, the shouten silent around them.

The sun is setting when Rukia and Renji show up.

Ichigo is perched on the window of the front room, soaking what he can from the sunlight, tired of being cooped up in the dark of the shouten’s base level. Urahara and Tessai are doing inventory in a corner, and Karin, Yuzu, Jinta and Ururu are playing soccer outside. Well, Karin and Jinta are trying to play, with Yuzu following as best as she can. Ururu just flashes past them and scores point after point.

Ichigo chuckles to himself, settling a little more against the wood.

A woosh of displaced air, a slide of wood like shoji doors slipping open. Ichigo looks up, heart racing, eyes frantically trying to find where the noise came from. His mind flashes to the children playing and he’s rising before he can think about it.

A hand on his shoulder stops him. Tessai looks at him with a slight smile.

“It’s Rukia-san and Renji-san.”

Ah. Ichigo sags back into a sitting position, relief washing over him. Now that he’s not running on adrenaline-fueled panic, he watches as two shadows land on the ground, one of them much taller than the other. They stand there for a moment, shifting, apparently moving their arms around in heated discussion. Then they move toward the door. Ichigo’s almost sure Rukia turns her head to him and waves, but he’s going to wait until they’re in a gigai to say or do anything—interacting with something akin to smoke is not fun.

He turns around to catch Karin staring at them, a worried look on her face. Ichigo tilts his head at her, raising his eyebrows in question. She shrugs and turns back to the game. Not a minute later Rukia and Renji emerge from behind the shop, finally solid enough for Ichigo to let his eyes roam over them, automatically looking for injuries.

Their faces are serious as they approach. Rukia is the first to speak.

“Hey. I’m sorry we weren’t here yesterday.”

Ichigo shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. I know you guys were attacked as well. I’m just glad everyone’s fine.” He levels a look at her. “Everyone _is_ fine, right?”

She nods, sitting down beside him. The windowsill is barely big enough for them both, but they make it work. “Some unseated officers are dead, but no one I knew. One of them was from a minor clan associated with the Kuchiki, so we had to attend the funeral.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rukia shrugs. “It’s fine. Like I said, I didn’t know them.” She still seems down, though. Ichigo frowns at Renji.

“Mood’s been somber,” Renji says, lowering himself with a wince to sit at their feet.

Ichigo glares at him, then snaps his eyes to Rukia. “I thought you said everyone was fine.”

Rukia rolls her eyes and pats Renji’s head. “They are. This idiot here pulled a back muscle in training two days ago and doesn’t wanna go to the Fourth for it.”

“Ugh, there’s no way I’m going to the Fourth for something so minor. It’s embarrassing.” Then Renji’s expression sobers up as he looks at Ichigo. “Specially after yesterday. They’re busy and have no time for a pulled muscle.”

Ichigo hums in agreement.

“And how’s everyone here?” Rukia asks, crossing her legs and leaning against Ichigo.

“Fine. Shaken, but fine. My house’s currently missing some pieces, and the TV was broken, but that’s all.” He hesitates for a moment, not wanting to darken the mood even more, but... Rukia and Renji would want to know. If it happened to them, Ichigo would want to know. “There’s something I need to tell you guys.”

Rukia leans back, eyeing him with concern. Renji moves until he’s facing Ichigo, face set into a hard frown. Ichigo looks around; Kisuke and Tessai are nowhere to be seen, and the kids are too far away in the front yard to hear anything.

Ichigo opens his mouth and things spill out before he’s consciously aware of it. It’s easier than he thought, even though he’s getting sick of talking about the same subject over and over. Rukia’s face falls when he’s done. She takes one of his hands in hers. “I’m so sorry, Ichigo. If I had known back then I’d never have—”

“Are you kidding?” Ichigo grips her hands back, willing her to understand. “If you hadn’t given me your reiatsu, we’ll both be dead. My family would be dead. We’re only alive because of you.”

Her eyes fill with tears and Ichigo fidgets, awkward and unsure, but still feeling grateful.

“C’mon, don’t cry on me,” he grumbles, relieved to see the guilt fade from her face. She sniffs, drying her face with her sleeves.

“I know I did some dumb things back then,” Renji says, hand rubbing his neck, “but I agree with Ichigo. You did what you had to do. Was it unconventional? Sure. But you did your job.”

Rukia nods, and Ichigo feels the tension leave him, but before he can relax back into the wall, Renji levels him with a hard stare. “I can’t say I agree with it—yeah, don’t look at me like that—but I’ll be here if something goes wrong. Even if it’s only to say I told you so.” He grins, holding up a fist.

Ichigo bumps his own fist against it, giving Renji a challenging smile. “I’ll be counting on you.”

Rukia slaps his arm with a little too much force, making him wince. She glares at him for a few seconds. Ichigo wills himself not to start sweating at that look.

“I’m with Renji,” she says, voice hard but solemn in a way only she can do. “I think it’s dangerous and foolish... but I understand, too. We’re with you, whatever happens.”

Damn, but Ichigo has some good friends. He smiles at her, somehow wishing he could say how much he appreciates them and their faith, without sounding sappy. He settles for grabbing Rukia’s sleeve and pulling her against his side again. She goes willingly. Renji turns back to the front, back against the wall. They spent a little over an hour there, talking and watching the sunset with the sound of a soccer match in the background.

When it gets too chilly to stay outside, they move to the shouten’s underground.

Karin falls into step beside him on her way in, hair slick with sweat and a shine in her eyes. “Ichi-nii, are we going to school tomorrow?”

“Of course. I have assignments to hand over, and you and Yuzu have a test. Don’t think I forgot.”

She groans, scratching her cheek and leaving specks of dirt behind. “Boring.”

“I know. We’re still gonna go.”

“Fine.” She sighs, the picture of world-weary.

Ichigo suddenly stops in his tracks. “Shit, our school stuff is still at the house. I almost forgot _that_.”

“Can’t we go get it?”

“We could, but then we’d have to deal with a dozen mother hens. Do you want that?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

They’re close to the living room now, and Ichigo nudges Karin on the shoulder, toward their bedroom. “Go take a shower. I’ll find someone to go with me. Is there anything you need?”

“My mp3.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “I meant school-wise.”

“Everything’s in my bag.”

“Okay.” Ichigo turns to the room, hoping to find someone who doesn’t seem busy. He blinks, surprised to see Yoruichi again.

“Yoruichi-san, you’re back.”

She turns to him from where she’s reading something on the couch, a plate of snacks within reach. “Yeah, I was just patrolling Karakura’s borders.”

“And?”

“Everything’s quiet.”

They stare at each other for a moment.

“...Are you going to say ‘too quiet’?”

She grins, unashamed. “I was going to, but your face as you waited for it was priceless.”

Ichigo huffs, an unwilling smile curling a corner of his lips. “I actually need someone to go to my house with me.”

“Ha, are you asking me to babysit?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but call it whatever you want, as long as you help me.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t sneak off on your own.”

Ichigo grins, unrepentant and not caring that it shows on his face. “I was tempted, but the headache afterwards wouldn’t be worth it.”

She grins back. “Indeed.” Then she closes her book and snatches the last snack from the plate, something sweet, going by the smell. “Let’s go, then.”

They’re about to set foot outside when Yuzu comes running from downstairs.

“Onii-chan!”

Ichigo stops in his tracks and lets out a soft _oof_ as Yuzu doesn’t stop in time and collides with him, headbutting him in the stomach. She leans back and looks up at him, rubbing her nose.

“Can I go with you?”

He looks at Yoruichi and she nods, so he tells Yuzu, “Yeah, of course.” She looks relieved. He frowns, making a mental point to keep a careful eye on her.

“I’ll keep to the roofs. Let’s be quick.” Yoruichi pats Yuzu on the head. “Hold my clothes for me, okay?”

Yuzu nods, unfortunately used to it already, against Ichigo’s wishes. He groans and looks away as Yoruichi takes off her clothes and hands them to Yuzu, who dutifully folds them on her arm. The first time the girls saw Yoruichi transforming into a cat was quite the commotion. Karin had the gall to ask what was the point of Ichigo being a shinigami if he couldn’t turn into a cat as well. He’s still bitter about that.

Purple smoke rises around Yoruichi, and in a blink of an eye she vanishes. The smoke disperses to reveal a black cat, looking so ordinary that when Ichigo remembers she’s actually a person, it’s always a little bit of a whiplash.

“Alright, children. Follow along,” Yoruichi says, masculine voice almost throwing Ichigo off. It’s been a while since he’s heard it.

They take maybe half an hour to get to the Kurosaki household, and along the way Ichigo notices the destruction he couldn’t see the night before. Some buildings have smashed fronts where something huge slammed into them, but the most damage can be seen around houses.

He sees one or two houses completely destroyed, foundation and all just rubble on the ground. Others have ripped off roofs, whole chunks missing, smashed cars and fences and windows. One of the houses they pass by has some cars parked in front of it, a few people going in and out of the house. One of them is holding a cardboard box that seems heavy, something scrawled on top of it.

Ichigo stares, but Yuzu’s hand on his sleeve urges him on.

It’s strange, walking around the neighborhood. The attack feels like weeks ago, not something that happened yesterday. Some sort of misplaced guilt makes its home inside Ichigo. Despite everything, he slept well knowing everyone he cares about were safe, and this day so far has almost felt like a normal weekend for him, going to the shouten and spending time with his shinigami friends. He had forgotten what kind of day the town has been having.

They turn the corner on their street and Ichigo reacts without thinking, grabbing Yuzu by the arm and pulling her to his other side, leaving her between the houses and him. She looks at him with surprise, but he just smiles, tight and not fooling anyone. She doesn’t ask, though, and Ichigo is grateful for that.

The enormous pool of blood is across the street, but still visible from where they are. Ichigo’s imagination brings forth the image of someone bleeding on the ground, fast enough to lose a lot of blood before it coagulated.

The house across the street from the Kurosaki household is still as destroyed as it was yesterday, and nothing seems to have been moved. Ichigo doesn’t know if the neighbors are away, or simply dead. He debates going inside to check in, wonders if it’s worth it, if he’s going to find bodies or random limbs, if there’s blood painting the walls. A lone siren wails in the distance, snapping him back to the task at hand.

He turns to his house to find Yoruichi watching him from her perch atop the wall, yellow eyes glinting in the street lights.

“Don’t take too long, Ichigo. It’s getting dark fast and I’d rather have you two back at the shouten soon.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Yuzu opens the door, keys jingling loudly in the silence. Ichigo tries the light switch, to no avail. They’ll have to navigate the house in the faint evening light.

The living room is still a mess, obviously, but now that he’s not running on adrenaline and fear, he can appreciate that it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Comparing it with the destruction and blood he’s seen on their way here, they got off light.

Yuzu is quiet as she makes her way upstairs. Ichigo follows her, watching her. She stops at her and Karin’s room, and Ichigo keeps going until he’s in his own. His backpack in the corner has some dust and dirt over it, but everything inside seems to be just as he left it.

Backpack in hand, he leaves his room to stop at his sisters’ bedroom. He watches as Yuzu moves slowly, collecting her things with sluggish movements. She has her back turned to the door. Ichigo puts his backpack down and leans against the doorframe. He scowls, not really sure if he should say something. Her somber mood is atypical.

He decides to start with something unrelated. “Oh right, Karin asked for her mp3.”

Yuzu nods and rummages through a drawer, still not turning around. Ichigo decides that waiting is the best option. Yuzu pretends to be looking around the room for something, opening drawers and bags. A full three minutes pass before she finally gives up and turns around.

“Onii-chan?” Yuzu asks.

“Yeah?”

“Am I a bother?”

Ichigo frowns, blinking at her a few times while he processes the question. “Why would you think something like that?”

“I can’t see anything. I’m not like you and dad and Karin. Even after losing your powers you still can see shadows.”

“Not seeing spirits _does not_ make you a bother.”

“But I’m useless like this!” She shouts, so sudden and loud that Ichigo flinches back a step. Yuzu immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, face set into a sort of desperate shock. A beat, then the corners of her eyes fill up with tears, but they don’t fall.

They stare at each other for a while, Ichigo flabbergasted at the display of emotions. He can’t even say the last time he heard Yuzu shout in anger or frustration.

 _Has_ she ever shouted in anger or frustration before?

Ichigo swallows, trying to read Yuzu’s mood. She’s shell shocked where she stands, hand still covering her mouth.

“Why—” he starts, stops, blinks. “Why do you think you’re useless?” He asks, something lodged in his throat.

She barely takes her hand away from her mouth to answer. “Because I am. I can’t fight monsters like everyone else.” She blinks and the tears fall down her face.

Ichigo takes a step toward her, unsure of what he can say here.

“That doesn’t make you useless. Killing hollows isn’t everything.”

“Then why are you so desperate to get your powers back?”

Ichigo’s eyes widen. His heart accelerates as Yuzu looks directly at him, a challenge in her eyes. It’s not something he’s ever expected of her, harsh voice and harsh eyes and a question that cuts right through the chase.

“I heard you and dad talking,” she continues. “Getting your powers back is not a good thing, is it?”

“It’s not a bad thing, either. Not exactly.”

“How so?” She almost glares at him, so upset. “It’s going to kill you!”

“Half of my soul is gone! Getting it back and getting my powers back is the same thing. And I... I want to be whole again.”

She blinks, caught off guard by his admission. She tilts her head to the side as she stares at him. Ichigo doesn’t move. Then Yuzu nods, weary, taking a step back and sitting down hard on her bed. She looks down at her hands. Ichigo didn’t notice before, but she’s holding Karin’s mp3, rolling it around her fingers as a sad expression takes her face.

“I don’t want to be left behind, onii-chan.” Her voice is so low Ichigo almost doesn’t hear her, but the heartbreak in her words squeezes something in him.

“No one’s leaving you behind.”

She doesn’t answer. Ichigo feels immensely inadequate to deal with this situation.

“I’m gonna go back to being the only one who can’t see spirits.” Her voice is brittle as she takes a deep breath. “I’m kinda jealous of you. I’m sorry.”

Oh.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I guess... I guess it’s normal to be jealous, right? So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“I just—” Her voice breaks on it, and she turns tearful eyes to him. “I don’t want to feel this way. I know you sacrificed a lot for us, for your friends,” she wipes the tears from her face, “and I don’t want to undermine that.”

Ichigo grabs the corner of his coat sleeve and gently dabs her face with it, heart heavy. She freezes, looking at him with surprise. Ichigo mentally winces. He can’t remember the last time he comforted her when something was wrong, and how the hell did he miss her feelings like this? The guilt could choke him if it was tangible; he’s been so worried about himself that he didn’t realize Yuzu was dealing with this.

“This past year has been hard for me, feeling like I wasn’t a part of it like everyone else, so I kinda understand?” He says, hoping he’s not putting his foot in his mouth. “I understand your frustration, so... if you wanna let it out, just do it. You can yell at me if you want.”

She gives him a little smile, tainted with guilt. “I don’t wanna yell at you. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be.”

Yuzu stares at her feet, purple socks with white rabbits spread all over it. A few seconds of silence pass before she opens her mouth again. “Why do you have to go back to fighting?”

“Hm?”

“Why can’t you stay away from it?”

Ah, arguing with Isshin about this is one thing. Telling Yuzu he’s willing to sacrifice himself for her is quite another.

“I like fighting.”

“Is that all?”

Ichigo doesn’t know how to answer in a way that won’t make her mad at him, so he keeps quiet. Yuzu brings her eyes to him, something knowing in them.

“Onii-chan, I don’t know if anyone ever told you this, but protecting us is not your responsibility. Protecting the _world_ is not your responsibility.”

Ah, what a clever little thing Yuzu is. Ichigo can’t help the smile he gives her. “I know. You’re not the first to tell me that, and I have a sinking feeling you won’t be the last.”

She sighs, the quiet sound of someone who’s thought about this a lot. Ichigo eyes the way her shoulders bunch up. They stay quiet for a while, letting their words sink in. When Yuzu looks up at him again, her eyes are clearer.

“You fighting makes me worried,” she admits, voice quiet. She has a resigned air to her, though, and in this moment she looks a lot like Isshin when he leaned against the wall and told Ichigo he would watch his back.

“This is gonna sound arrogant, but bear with me,” he says, fidgeting with his cuffs. A little bit of guilt surges up, but he pushes it back down. “You know that out of everyone, I’m one of the strongest, right?”

Yuzu lets out a surprised giggle, still a little wet and hesitant, but genuine. “Yeah. You’re awesome like that, onii-chan.”

He smiles. “I’m glad you think so.” Pride swells inside his chest, because having his little, sweet sister think he’s awesome is an achievement he’s not ashamed to admit he’s always wanted.

“So, because I’m strong, we can’t afford to not have my abilities in the equation. Not while there’s still a war going on, no matter how calm things seem to be right now.” He looks at his knees as memories swamp him. “And honestly? I tried my best to do what I thought was right, and it’s led me here, and I don’t want to stop.”

Soft sounds come from the hallway, like little feet padding across the floor. Yoruichi has probably come to see what’s taking them so long, but Ichigo needs to say what he’s thinking right now, before he loses his nerve.

“I won’t be able to rest if I don’t have the means to protect you and Karin and Goat Face, and my friends. That’s one of the reasons I want my powers back. If having me at the frontline can give us an edge, then I need to be there.”

“But dad and the others can protect us.”

Ichigo hides a grimace. “They can, but extra protection is always nice.”

Yuzu bites her lips, uncertainty crossing her face.

“What is it?” Ichigo asks.

“You don’t need to worry yourself sick over our safety, though. I wish... I wish you’d understand that.”

“I do understand it, and I can see where you’re coming from. But I guess that’s just the way I’m wired.” He gives her what he hopes is a carefree smile, one that conveys what he can’t quite say. She just keeps looking sad, though. Something in her face, the way her stare seems to see right through him makes Ichigo uneasy, but right now it’s not the time to ask. (Part of him wishes to never know.) He sighs and pats her on the shoulder.

“Are you two ready to go?” Yoruichi asks from the doorway.

“Yeah,” Ichigo answers. Yuzu is the first to get up, bags secure in her grip, Karin’s mp3 in her pocket. She wipes her face one last time, eyes puffy and lips swollen.

“Let’s go then, I need to make dinner.” Yuzu grabs Ichigo’s hand and pulls him toward the door. He eyes their entwined hands, not quite able to remember the last time he held Yuzu’s or Karin’s hand.

They follow Yoruichi downstairs. Yuzu doesn’t let go as they hit the sidewalk, and Ichigo doesn’t say anything. It’s as much a comfort for her as it is for him.

Evening has given way to night, no more sunlight as the street lamps illuminate their path home. Ichigo’s eyes roam across the streets, some anxiety writhing in his chest. Walking around at night while being basically blind to anything supernatural is not his idea of fun. Yoruichi’s silent presence as she leaps from house to house does bring him a sense of safety, but he still breathes a sigh of relief as the shouten comes into view.

The small rest of Sunday they still got is spent quietly finishing homework, rereading assignments, and wishing things would just go back to normal.

But Ichigo’s life has never been normal, and he’s come to accept—for lack of any satisfactory alternative—that it never will be.


	3. Chapter 3

School on Monday is uncomfortable. Their class is abuzz with gossip, from terrorists to the Americans to the forces of good and evil. Everything under the sun seems to be the cause of the random attacks. Ichigo scowls at the room at large, incensed that people can talk so excitedly about something so awful.

Then a classmate asks if everything’s alright with Ichigo’s family, and he has to exercise his meager poker face skills as he answers that everything’s fine, don’t worry. Tatsuki sends him an amused look from across the room. They trade a glance fueled with some sort of resignation. She gets up and approaches him.

“Don’t make that face,” she says, sitting at the edge of his desk.

“They shouldn’t be talking like this. This is serious.”

“People don’t know that.”

“How can they not? A bunch of random attacks all around the city, people dead, property destroyed. How is this not serious?”

“Of course it is. I’m saying that people don’t really know, and usually they don’t really want to know, either.” She looks around the classroom, eyes stopping at a girl sitting quietly in a corner, eyes downcast. “People only see what they want.”

Ichigo frowns at the statement, but doesn’t rebut it. It’s true. He should know. After a whole life of dealing with the supernatural in one way or another, Ichigo should be more than used to the way people turn a blind eye to uncomfortable things. He knows, but it still grates on his nerves.

“It’s just... it gets me, sometimes.”

“Yeah.”

“Oi, Takahashi! What’s with the long face?” A voice shouts from across the room. The boy moves toward Takahashi, the girl in the corner. She flicks her eyes up to him, a strained smile on her face.

“Nothing, just... my dad got hurt on Saturday. He’s in the hospital right now,” she says. The boy—Ichigo can’t remember his name—looks stricken for a moment, then pats her on the arm, awkward and hesitant.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

Tatsuki turns back to Ichigo, eyes dark, mouth pulled into a frown. “Guess not everyone got off as well as we did.”

Ichigo winces. “I wish—”

“Stop it.” Tatsuki’s voice leaves no room for arguments. She rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you it’s not your responsibility, yadda yadda, I’m sure you’re sick of hearing it,”—Ichigo nods, a reluctant smile on his lips—“but I am gonna tell you to stop every time you think it’s your fault, because _I swear to god_ Ichigo, it’s getting old.”

“Yeah, fine.” He doesn’t bother hiding his exasperated tone.

She slaps her arms and goes back to her seat, just as Ochi-sensei opens the door.

“Alright everyone, in your seats! I know a lot has happened this weekend, but let’s concentrate on what we have to accomplish today, alright?” She takes a moment to look at her class, as people get to their seats and silence falls around them. “If anyone needs to talk, the school counselor is ready to receive you, so don’t hesitate. And if anyone wants, I’m here too.”

She grabs a piece of chalk. “Now, let’s start.”

Two days later and they have a functioning, kidou-enhanced wooden roof over the Kurosaki household. It’s not a permanent solution, but it will do until they call up someone to repair everything. They finally move out of the shouten, with the promise to be back to spend Christmas Eve together. Ichigo and Yuzu take it upon themselves to clean the house, while Isshin and Karin are the ones to patch up the holes in the walls and the broken windows.

Ichigo is studying for a test when a sound snaps his attention to the window. He relaxes when he sees Shinji sitting on the windowsill, captain haori nowhere in sight. Ichigo stares; he can’t remember seeing Shinji only in the black shihakushou before. It contrasts nicely with his yellow blonde hair and pale skin. Shinji grins at Ichigo, face tired. There’s a brown package in his arms.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Ichigo answers, voice soft because he feels like Shinji isn’t up to any loud noises right now. There are bags under his eyes, skin paler than normal, grin not as bright.

“How are things up there?”

Shinji grimaces. “Still a mess. It’s amazin’ the amount of paperwork one needs for repairin’ a simple wall.”

Ichigo huffs, humor in his voice as he asks, “Do you think it’s because you guys live so long? I mean, everything seems to be slower when it comes to shinigami.”

Shinji chuckles. “Maybe. We could definitely do some things faster.”

“Like maybe not take decades to learn bankai.”

“Brat, ya can’t compare other shinigami ta yerself.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“No. Yer a freak of nature.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Shinji laughs, some of the shadows leaving his face. Ichigo feels accomplished. He leans back in his chair and jerks his chin at the bundle Shinji brought.

“What’s that?”

“Materials. Yer own personal piercer, at yer service.” Shinji sketches a bow while sitting. Ichigo perks up.

“Already?” he asks, excitement coursing through him.

“Yup.”

Shinji takes his sandals off and balances them on the windowsill, then sits down on Ichigo’s bed. He unwraps the things he’s brought; a disposable needle, a cork, some cotton swabs, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol... and a pair of studs in stainless steel, completely grey with a simple sphere at the tip. Ichigo can already imagine them on himself, and a smile comes unbidden to his face.

“Aha! I like that smile. Like the studs, then? I wasn’t sure what style ya wanted, so I grabbed these.”

“I really like them.”

“Good.” Shinji leaves the room and Ichigo hears the bathroom sink being used. Then he comes back and points at Ichigo.

“Open the needle, but don’t touch it.” He moves to grab the cotton swabs and the alcohol. Ichigo grabs the package, studying the needle inside. It’s short and hollow on the inside, nothing like any other needle he’s seen before. He’s so distracted with it that he almost has a heart attack as Shinji grabs his right ear.

He flinches, almost leaning away from Shinji’s hold.

“Easy. I need ta clean yer ears. No one wants an infection.”

“Doesn’t kaidou help with that?”

“Well, yeah. But yer mostly human and I don’t wanna take any chances.”

Sounds like a weird reasoning, but Ichigo obediently holds still as Shinji cleans one earlobe, then the other. He keeps his gaze over Shinji’s shoulder, glued to the wall. It’s a good thing shinigami can’t hear people’s heartbeats.

“Alright, I’m gonna pierce the right one first. Try not ta move.”

Ichigo nods. He feels a tiny prick in his ear. It’s nothing compared to some of the pain he’s gone through, but it’s still intense enough to elicit a wince. He stays as still as possible, though. Shinji works slow, with careful hands and measured breaths. Ichigo just hopes he can keep the blush off his face for as long as possible, which is hard considering how close Shinji is, breath grazing his skin.

“Alright, next one.” Shinji moves to the other side and repeats the process. It’s surprisingly relaxing, if one can ignore the pain.

“Aaand done! How d’ya feel?”

Ichigo tilts his head, paying attention to the alien feeling of something cold in his ears.

“Weird but nice? Though it’s kinda hurting—wow, okay, it’s hurting a lot now, what the fuck.”

“That’s just the initial shock wearin’ off. Don’t worry, tho’.”

Shinji stops in front of Ichigo and brings his hands up to Ichigo’s ears, gently cupping them. Ichigo tilts his head up for easier access, but that brings his eyes in direct contact with Shinji, and Ichigo finds he can’t look away. A cool sensation washes over his ears, and he sees green light from the corners of his eyes.

Shinji isn’t looking at his ears, though. He’s looking at him. Ichigo’s breath catches and he has to consciously make his lungs move. He can’t make out Shinji’s expression besides something pleased. It sends his heart racing. Shinji finally takes his eyes away to stare at his hands, and Ichigo relaxes a little. After a whole minute of pretending he’s not affected, Shinji’s hands stop glowing, and Ichigo realizes his ears don’t hurt anymore. He opens his mouth to thank Shinji, but freezes as Shinji leans downs, brings their faces close together. He eyes Ichigo’s ears with a clinical gaze, accessing his handy work, moving Ichigo’s head from side to side. All the while his hands never leave Ichigo’s face.

A moment or two, and Shinji looks at him, smiling in that way that makes Ichigo want to smile back. So he does.

“Looks pretty good ta me. Take a look for yerself.”

Ichigo mentally slaps himself and gets up, dislodging Shinji’s hands. He ignores his disappointment at the loss of contact and opens his closet to use the mirror on the inside of the door. The studs gleam in the light, contrasting with his tanned skin and orange hair.

“I look even more like a delinquent now.” He grins at Shinji. “Thanks.”

“Yer very welcome. I knew those would look good on ya.”

Ichigo feels his face heat up, so he racks his brain for anything to say, anything to take the attention away from him... but then he remembers there’s something he’s been meaning to ask Shinji, and the blush comes full force. Oh, well. He gathers up his courage with a deep breath.

“Would you—I mean—Can you—” Ichigo swallows. Wow, that did not start how he wanted. Shinji is blinking at him with a confused look, so Ichigo takes a breath and tries again.

“Would you like to spend Christmas Eve here? I mean, not _here_ here. At the shouten actually. It’s just me and my family and Urahara-san and the others, and maybe Yoruichi-san? And Hiyori, if she accepts, of course.” Ichigo shuts his mouth, embarrassment taking over.

Shinji’s smile had been getting progressively bigger as Ichigo talked, and now he graces Ichigo with a big cheshire grin, looking smug.

“I’d love ta spend Christmas with ya. Thanks for invitin’ me.”

Ichigo nods, averting his eyes before he says something stupid like _spend the New Year’s too._

“Huh,” Shinji says, the tone of someone who has just come to a realization. “Isn’t Christmas a kinda couple thing nowadays?”

Ichigo’s cheeks are on fire, but he valiantly turns back to Shinji. “Mostly yeah, since there aren’t many Christians in Japan to make it a national, religious holiday or anything. But some people celebrate it with family.” He shrugs, trying for nonchalant and probably missing.

Shinji hums, grin subsiding to a small, pleased smile. He doesn’t say anything else, just stares at Ichigo. Ichigo stares back. His eyes move without his consentment, from Shinji’s hair to his mouth to the slope of his nose, to the tiny mole on his neck and his new piercings. And to the way his eyes droop and blink heavily.

“You look tired.”

“Understatement.”

Ichigo debates with himself for just a second, then opens his mouth. “Wanna lie down?”

The surprise on Shinji’s face is worth the embarrassment of asking such a question and letting his concern show.

“Ah, not sure if I should.”

Ichigo looks at the clock. “Dinner will be done in an hour or so. Take a nap, eat Yuzu’s food—because how can you not?—and then you can be on your way.”

“Ya make a compelling argument.”

Ichigo smiles in triumph. Shinji sighs. He wraps the materials back up and leaves them on the floor beside Ichigo’s desk. Then he flops down on the bed. Even with winter upon them, the night is fairly warm, so Shinji doesn’t bother with covering himself. Ichigo turns the light off, leaving his study lamp as the only light in the room, trying to give Shinji a small semblance of darkness.

He feels a pair of eyes boring holes into his head as he sits down again, and he looks to the side to meet Shinji’s eyes. Ichigo doesn’t know how to read the expression Shinji’s making, but it sends something warm through him.

“Sleep,” he says, just enough of a command in his tone.

Shinji closes his eyes and Ichigo permits himself just a second of looking at him, before going back to studying. If he keeps touching his piercings and smiling, well, no one needs to know.

The next two weeks pass in a hurry of exams and tests and Karakura’s police patrolling the streets at night. Ichigo is torn between approval and wanting to scream at them that there’s nothing they can do. Because that’s not exactly true. The police can evacuate a building or even a whole street if they think people’s lives are in danger, and maybe they can divert a hollow’s attention just enough to get people safely away.

Also, Ichigo understands that people feel safer having the police around.

“I still don’t like it,” he says to Karin, as they watch the latest patrol from Isshin’s balcony.

“Me neither,” she answers, head in her arms and a bored look on her face. “I can’t help but think that’s just more people who’re gonna die in another attack.”

Ichigo sighs. “Yeah, I thought about that. Maybe they can actually distract the hollows so the civilians can get way?”

“They’re still gonna die, though.”

“Yeah. We’re just gonna have to keep an eye out and help however we can. The mayor promised there’s gonna be patrols every night until at least after New Year’s.”

“That’s a lot of overtime for them.”

Ichigo nods. There’s no simple solution to the problem, and Ichigo isn’t arrogant enough to think he has one. He can’t quite bring the whole Gotei 13 to watch over Karakura, as much as he wishes he could. They stay quiet after that, watching as the group turns a corner and disappears.

“If anything happens... I’m gonna fight too.” Karin’s voice is steady as the dying sunlight paints a halo behind her head. The words that want to come out of Ichigo’s mouth are discouraging, so he just blinks at her.

“I know,” she continues, “that I’m not as strong as you were, but I can still fight. And I know you’re probably thinking of locking me up, but let me remind you that forced confinement is a crime.”

Ichigo chuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of it. ‘Sides, you’d probably scream your lungs out until someone let you out.”

“Probably.” She smiles, devious little thing. “And then I’d kick you in the balls. I’d feel guilty about it, but I’d still do it.”

“Duly noted.”

Karin stretches and groans, back cracking in a way that never fails to make Ichigo wince. She turns mischievous eyes to him.

“When are you getting your powers back?”

“Tomorrow. The day after is Christmas Eve, and I wanna be up and about by then. Urahara-san said it can take me from a measly minute to twenty four hours before I can move without my body being on fire. So tomorrow it is.”

She nods. “I wish I could be there.”

“I know, but you still got exams. Don’t even think of skipping.”

“Ugh, Ichi-nii, I won’t. Stop being so suspicious.”

“Don’t think I forgot that time you and Yuzu skipped classes to go to the movies.”

“That was _one_ time. You used to skip classes all the time!”

“To kill hollows, not to go watch a movie. Don’t be irresponsible.” Ichigo ruffles Karin’s hair just to see her cheeks go red in anger.

“You’re so boring!” She tries to grab his hand and fails. Ichigo sees the moment her eyes light up, and he’s almost too late to stop the kick she aims at his shins. “Who are you to talk about responsibility when you’re the one going around looking like a delinquent?

“Oh my god, it’s just a pair of earrings, give it a break!” Ichigo laughs, dodging as Karin tries to punch him in the stomach. “I take them off when I go to school, you have no ground to stand on!”

“I don’t care, they’re permanent! You can’t give me flak ‘bout skipping school _one time_!” Her voice is shrill in that particular way only teenage girls can do, but there’s still a grin on her face as she slaps his arm repeatedly.

They only stop their play fight when Yuzu shouts that dinner’s ready. Food is always a good distraction.

The shouten is a welcoming sight in the early morning. Ichigo rubs his eyes, yawning wide and wishing for his warm bed. The breeze runs cold today. He huddles inside his coat and rushes to the shop, wondering if Tessai has warm tea waiting for him. Ichigo is not really a fan of tea, but it’s impossible to frequent the shouten and not learn to drink tea on a regular basis, and anything that might warm him up is a good thing right now.

He knocks on the door, expecting Tessai or Urahara, but to his surprise and delight, Rukia is the one to answer.

“Welcome to the humble Urahara Shouten, esteemed customer!” She mimics Urahara’s cadence pretty well, with a cheerfully fake voice to go with it. They share a grin as she steps aside to let him in.

“I’m glad you could come,” Ichigo tells her.

“There’s no way I’m going to lose the chance to stab you again.” She closes the door behind them and ushers him downstairs.

“Your bloodlust is rather worrying, Rukia.”

“Nonsense. I’m just stab-happy. Perfectly normal for a shinigami.”

“Uh huh.”

They descend to the lower level and make their way to the living room, where a tray of warm tea is waiting for him. Ichigo sits on the couch and grabs the strawberry themed cup, something that Jinta and Ururu bought him as a joke and it’s now considered Ichigo’s cup. He takes a sip, closing his eyes against the steam, inhaling the sweet smell of roses and cranberry. His favorite flavor. (Tessai considers it a disgrace to _real_ tea everywhere, but Ichigo knows they have a box of this particular infusion just for him.)

The warmth runs through his body. By the time he’s finished with his cup, he has to take his coat off.

“What a nice pair of earrings you got there, Ichigo.” Rukia’s tone slides into a type of teasing she likes to bring up sometimes, specially when they’re talking about a certain captain.

Ichigo’s eyebrow twitches. “Right? They were a present.”

“What a nice present. You look good in them; whoever chose them picked them with care.”

He’s considering the merits of starting a pillow fight when a nice voice distracts him.

“Right on time, brat.”

Ichigo’s eyes snap to Shinji standing in the doorway. A spark of joy courses through him. “Hey! You managed to come!”

“‘Course. There’s no way yer doin’ this without me,” Shinji says, coming up to sit beside him. Ichigo smiles at him and ignores Rukia’s knowing look behind Shinji’s back. He’s not telling this to anyone, but most of the nerves he’s been having since yesterday have suddenly settled down.

“I’m gonna go see if everything’s ready,” Rukia says, curling her lips at Ichigo. He glares at her back, but his eyes slid back to Shinji without conscious thought.

“How did exams go?” Shinji asks.

“Went well... I guess.”

“Ya guess?”

Ichigo groans, slides a hand over his face. “I studied as well as I could, but who knows. I haven’t been focusing well.”

Shinji’s eyebrows go up, unamused, expression clearly saying _really?_. Ichigo sends him a grimace.

“Ya’ve been worried?”

“Obviously.”

Shinji frowns at him, tilting his head. “Maybe I wasn’t clear then. Sorry.”

“Hm? Clear about what?”

“That I’m gonna protect ya, no matter what. Me and Hiyori and Kisuke and Yoruichi. Even Isshin.”

Ichigo’s heart trips on itself and picks up pace. Trust Shinji to just come out and say something like that with the straightest face.

“So ya don’t need ta worry. Jus’ concentrate on whatcha gotta do right now.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t. The truth is that Ichigo is not used to being the one being protected. It’s not as bad a feeling as he used to think. Shinji is still looking at him, waiting for an answer, and Ichigo can’t help the curve his mouth makes. “Couldn’t you have told me that when I was actually having exams?”

Shinji grins. “Sorry, my bad. Do ya want me to send ya a message from time ta time, ta remind ya? I can leave them atop yer desk.”

Ichigo chuckles, anxiety starting to wash away. They exchange a few more barbs, his nerves settling down. He knows that Shinji is doing it intentionally, and he’s grateful for it. Minutes pass before Urahara steps into the room, wide smile, shopkeeper facade firmly in place. Ichigo’s nerves slide right back like a ton of bricks, squeezing his stomach.

“Ah, Kurosaki-san, good to see you. It’s time for the procedure. Are you ready?”

“I was, until you got here with that smile.”

Urahara grabs his hat but doesn’t hide his eyes. His smile falters. “Forgive me, I was trying to not let my own nervousness show, but it has backfired, I see.”

Shinji groans. “I’ve just spent the last ten minutes calmin’ him down and ya go and ruin it.”

“I sincerely apologize.”

“Ah well,” Ichigo says, getting up, “let’s just get this over with.”

They move to a room Ichigo hasn’t been before. It’s empty, except for a circle of seals on the floor. Tessai sits cross legged near the circle, eyes closed in concentration. Ichigo looks at Urahara with a raised eyebrow.

“The seals are kidou-made, of course. Hachigen-san helped make them. They will mask whatever explosion your reiatsu decides to make, so as to not attract unwanted attention.” His face says exactly what kind of attention they don’t want.

Ichigo nods, looks at Shinji. “Like the barrier at the warehouse?”

“Yup,” Shinji says. “Hachi’s the best at that, so the barrier will be solid. He also apologized for not being ‘ere.”

“That’s fine. Say thanks for me.”

Yoruichi is leaning against the wall, arms crossed. She smiles when Ichigo looks at her, but doesn’t say anything to try and placate him, which it’s nice. Then Rukia enters the room and shuts the door, the sound echoing through the room with finality. Ichigo swallows, takes a deep breath, tries to remember why he’s doing this in the first place. He steps into the circle and turns to face everyone, finally noticing the sword on Rukia’s hand.

She throws him a grin. Her hands on the sword are steady. Ichigo almost doesn’t smile back at her, but he manages.

“Ready to do the honors?” he asks, voice firm despite the way his legs have started shaking. He hopes this is over soon, because it’s starting to get embarrassing.

“Whenever you are,” she answers.

Shinji moves forward a little, standing behind Rukia in Ichigo’s point of view. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes are steady, and Ichigo feels his breathing ease up a little. Urahara rests a hand on Benihime and nods at Tessai, who starts reciting words that Ichigo doesn’t have the peace of mind to pay attention to. Whatever it is, it’s long and takes almost a minute. 

When Tessai is done, three golden, cylindrical barriers light up the room, one inside the other, all around Ichigo. The hum of power is loud, like he’s standing beside an electric generator. It’s a comforting sound, though, something he knows it’s there to keep him safe. Rukia steps forward, passing the barriers with calm, measured steps. They wobble around her, curving through her body and settling back into place as she passes. She stops in front of Ichigo, mischief in her eyes.

“Any last words?”

“If you’re gonna put flowers on my grave, they better be sunflowers.”

“As you wish.” Rukia grins, a little bit of her nerves showing through. “On the count of three.”

The room was already silent, but everything seems to hush down, waiting.

“One.” She aligns the sword with Ichigo’s abdomen and he takes a lungful of air.

“Two.” Ichigo’s gaze automatically slides up to Shinji.

Rukia plunges the sword in him before she gets to three, steady and precise. Ichigo barely sees the movement from the corner of his eyes, flinching instinctively, a backward sway that makes him take a step back. His eyes are still on Shinji, noticing the way Shinji twitches forward, wanting to get close but holding back. Blinking, he looks down. The sword is halfway through him, metal gleaming in the golden light. There’s no pain and no blood, though, because the wound isn’t really a wound. He and Rukia look at each other.

Ichigo opens his mouth to say _well, that was easy, all those nerves for nothing_ , but all that comes out is a scream, as something explodes in a flash of light.

His nerves light up in agony. Foreign reiatsu runs through his blood, hot like lava, setting his veins on fire. His legs don’t want to hold him anymore, and he falls, loud voices resounding around him. He’s pretty sure someone grabs him, though he can’t say who. Some words get through the roar in his ears, desperation coloring them.

“—get Orihi—”

“—too unstable—kill him outright—”

“—can’t leave him like t—”

“—don’t just stand t—”

“—Ichigo, don’tcha fuckin' dare—”

Ichigo wants to see what’s going on, wants to look down at himself and assess the damage, but opening his eyes is impossible. Something molten slides down his abdomen, burning his skin on the way. There’s a brief respite from the pain, a cool sensation against the hole the sword must have left behind. It doesn’t last long; the pain comes back with a vengeance, burning through his last senses.

If people are still talking, he can’t say.

Agony claws at his brain, half-formed thoughts turning to mush. His hands are in his hair, gripping tight with nails digging into his scalp. He can’t move them away. They don’t want to obey. Something sharp rings in his ears, and through the sea of burning agony he identifies his own voice, still screaming as reiatsu slides inside his every cell and sets them ablaze.

He can’t be certain how long it takes, but it feels like a small eternity of torment. When he finally closes his mouth, darkness takes over.

Consciousness comes slowly, almost timidly after the dramatic display. Ichigo’s eyelids are heavy, and his ears seem stuffed with cotton. He fights with his body for a few seconds, willing it to obey him. His muscles twinge, pain everywhere. Like something chewed him up and spit him out, which is almost funny because he didn’t even fight. Voices outside his room cut through the fog in his mind. People seem to be shouting, but he can’t quite make out the words.

His eyes open to a dark ceiling, a very low, very warm light illuminating the room from a corner. There’s a window to his left side, at the edge of his vision, curtains open. He can see a sliver of night sky. So he’s in a room on the second floor, then. He shifts his head slightly to his right side and winces. When he manages to turn his head all the way, his eyes fall on Shinji, sitting in a chair beside his bed. Shinji is looking at the door, though, features set in one of his best glares.

“I trusted you to take care of my son!” Isshin shouts, and Ichigo winces at the volume, even though there’s a wall between them. Urahara’s voice comes up, saying something back, and Isshin says, “Not enough!”

Ichigo groans, wishing they would go argue somewhere else.

Shinji’s head snaps to him, eyes wide. Ichigo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Pain runs through his throat, and the memory of his scream comes rushing back. His throat hurts so much, it’s like someone took a piece of sandpaper to it.

Shinji’s hand comes up to his forehead, taking his temperature. “Don’t talk. Yer throat’s probably raw right now.”

Even swallowing hurts. Ichigo is unamused. His eyes go back and forth between Shinji and the door, silently willing him to explain what’s going on.

Shinji sighs. “Yer father’s here. He’s not happy with us.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes, but stops mid-motion. God, even that hurts.

“Ah, I think yer father does have a right ta be mad, don'tcha think?”

“He knew,” Ichigo croaks out, grimacing through every letter.

Shinji’s fingers brush Ichigo’s hair out of his forehead. “Doesn’t mean he wasn’t worried.” Ichigo is pretty sure those same fingers caress his cheek, but it’s so fast he can’t be certain. “The procedure wasn’t pretty. Ya almost died.”

Ichigo can’t make out Shinji’s expression aside from pain, and he doesn’t like that he put it there. Shinji looks tired, drained, mouth pulled into a frown. Ichigo remembers falling, his legs failing him, and someone catching him before he tumbled to the floor. It’s hard to separate the memories from the pain, but some of them shine through anyway. A hand cradling his head even as his own hands couldn’t let go of his hair. Someone trying to heal him even as his body rebelled against it.

A cold rush of fear squeezes his lungs for a second, but Ichigo pushes it away. He can think of almost dying later. Much later.

“Sorry.”

Shinji flicks him on the forehead. “Why the fuck are ya apologizing? No, don’t say anythin’. Didn’ I tell ya not to talk?”

“Did it work?” he croaks out, ignoring Shinji’s squinting eyes.

“If I answer, will ya go back to sleep?”

 _No_ , he wants to say, but bites his tongue. Shinji throws him a baleful look, seeing right through his silence. Ichigo sighs and nods.

“It seems ta have worked, but we need ta wait ‘til yer body heals on its own ta know just how much it worked.”

The hand comes back, ostensibly to take Ichigo’s temperature again, but Shinji’s fingers keep moving slightly against Ichigo’s hair and skin.

“Now, go back ta sleep, alright?”

Ichigo frowns at him, but sleep is already grabbing the edges of his mind.

“I’ll make sure no one bothers ya. Sleep. Ya need it.”

Reluctantly, Ichigo closes his eyes. The fingers in his hair don’t stop. A metallic voice full of smug glee whispers something to him, but he’s asleep before he can pay attention to the words.

Next time he wakes up, Ichigo is ready to burst at the seams, skin seemingly not able to contain all the power inside him. He feels full for the first time in a whole year, and a bubble of excitement surges up in his chest. He rises from the bed as if someone electrocuted him, full of an energy that screams at him to move move _move_.

His eyes roam around the room, taking everything in sharp detail, like he’s seeing it for the first time.

He slides the door open with a little more force than necessary, wincing at the loud sound. The shouten is dark and silent. Ichigo has to slap a hand over his mouth to not shout something like _WAKE UP EVERYONE_. A little giggle escapes anyway, and he would be embarrassed about it, if he could think about anything else besides running up and down the hallway like a lunatic. He briefly wonders if this is how cats feel. Then he wonders if Yoruichi has this same urge sometimes, in the middle of the night. Then he imagines her zipping through the shouten and can’t quite contain a mad laugh.

A door opens at the end of the hallway, light falling on Ichigo’s face as he tries to identify the person. He squints against the light, and the person’s reiatsu slams into him like seeing sunlight for the first time in years. It’s bright and yellow and burning at his senses, warm sunlight and scorching fire. And around it, edges of sharp glass glinting in the light, leaving a rainbow of refracted light in his mind. Underneath it there’s a current of something dark, pervasive, like an oily thing.

It’s Shinji.

Ichigo takes a deep, deep breath, wishing he could grab a handful of sunlight and glass and store it in his lungs.

“Ichigo?” Even Shinji’s voice sounds different, the undercurrent of power that zings through it enough to make Ichigo snap back to reality. He takes one measured step forward, and when he blinks he’s standing right in front of Shinji. Shinji blinks at him, surprised, a worried frown starting to form between his eyebrows.

Ichigo grins at him. “Hi!”

Shinji’s eye widen. “...Hi.”

Ichigo giggles again. Shinji’s eyes widen a little more. Ichigo grabs Shinji’s hand and drags him away from the doorframe. Shinji goes willingly.

“Where are we goin’?”

“Fighting!”

“Fightin’?” Shinji’s tone is incredulous. It sounds absurdly funny to Ichigo’s ears.

“Fighting!” he repeats, laughing again. Ichigo’s steps are hurried, a little bit of a hop to them. Something’s dancing in his veins, wanting to get out.

“How the fuck are ya moving so much in such a short time? Ya should be in bed.”

Ichigo scoffs. “Gonna drag me back?”

“Nah.”

Ichigo grins at Shinji over his shoulders. “Awesome!” He ignores the befuddled look on Shinji’s face, the way he whispers _what the fuck_. They reach the training ground and Ichigo turns to Shinji.

“Out! Now!”

“What—”

Ichigo slaps a reiatsu filled hand on Shinji’s chest, separating him from the gigai. Shinji stumbles backward, haori flapping around him. Ichigo turns his palm to himself, aims right at the middle of his chest. Shinji grabs his hand right before it touches him, panic on his face.

“Wait!”

Ichigo brings his other hand up, and Shinji grabs that one too.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute! That ain’t even how it works!”

“Shiiinnnnjiiiiii,” Ichigo whines, trying to escape. Shinji lets out a laugh, partly amused and partly confused. It’s a nice sound and Ichigo drinks it up even as he tries to shake free, albeit half-heartedly.

“Let me goooo!”

“No, wait—” Shinji can’t finish his sentence, laughing too hard to keep talking. His hands still hold Ichigo’s, a steady, strong grip. Ichigo _could_ break it if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to.

After a couple of false starts, Shinji gets himself under control, wiping a tear out of the corner of his eye with a finger, manhandling Ichigo’s hands along. “I’ll do it, ‘kay? Just hold still.”

Ichigo cannot hold still, but he tries. Oh, does he try. Shinji’s amused gaze roams over Ichigo, looking at the way he can’t stop moving, legs and arms twitching. Ichigo’s fingers keep moving back and forth where they’re clasped between Shinji’s hands.

“Alright, promise me yer gonna keep yer hands _away_ from yer chest.”

“I promise! Hurry up!”

Shinji lets go of Ichigo and rummages around his shihakushou. A moment later he takes out a small keychain, a mark like a skull or hollow mask adorning it. Some uncertainty crosses his face, but Ichigo’s having none of it.

“Hurry up hurry up hurry up hurry—”

Shinji bumps him in the chest with the keychain, sending him flying backwards. He lets out an _oof_ as his back hits the ground. He gets up in one swift move, limbs as light as feathers. It’s like he’s lost sixty kilograms. Shinji is holding his body with care, laying it down on a corner near the door. Ichigo can’t help it. He turns around and shunpoes away, no direction in mind as he finally lets out all the energy bubbling inside him.

Some instinct long ingrained in him tells him there’s someone—or something—right behind him, an impression of sunlight and broken glass. He grins to himself, feels his eyes change color. He gathers more reiatsu under his feet, taking his soul to the limits. His shunpo is not as clean as it was a year ago, but he’s still fast, way faster than most shinigami can keep up with.

Shinji keeps up with him with no problem. Ichigo knows Shinji could catch up or even surpass him, right now, but Shinji keeps just two paces behind and to the side.

Ichigo grins again, feeling his face stretch in an expression he doesn’t usually wear. A piece of something cold and hard forms on his cheek. He unsheathes Zangetsu at the same time he turns around, clashing swords with Shinji. Shinji grins back at him, eyes dancing as he maneuvers Sakanade to the side, forcing Ichigo to change his footing. The adrenaline burns in the best way possible as it fills his veins.

The clang of swords is music to his ears. A slash, a parry, a dodge to the side. A hand grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and tossing him, sending him flying a few meters until he slams against a rock. Ichigo laughs at the dirty move, a current of excitement running through him at such a casual demonstration of Shinji’s strength. He barely has time to get back on his feet as Shinji rushes at him.

They hack away at each other for what seems like hours. Shinji pushes and pushes, keeping Ichigo on his toes.

Ichigo is about to slash at Shinji’s arm when he stops dead, arms still raised. He blinks in surprise. His mask dissolves, eyes going back to brown. He watches, paralized, as Shinji sheaths his zanpakutou. He only understands what Shinji’s doing when his legs give out, Zangetsu dissolving into nothing as it merges with him again. Shinji’s arms hold him close, keeping him from folding like a limp doll. Ichigo only has time to hear, “It’s okay, I gotcha,” before he closes his eyes and hears no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... three chapters became four, oops xD It was going to be a looooong chapter and I decided to split them up, so hopefully they're more comfortable to read. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated, let me know what you guys think! Thank you for reading this far (๑꒪▿꒪)*


End file.
